In the first article of this series back in April, we considered something that has quietly disappeared from many Christian homes: the regular practice of family worship. It has not disappeared because most Christian parents have rejected it. Very few fathers or mothers wake up and say, “I do not want my children to know the Lord.” The opposite is usually true. Most Christian parents deeply desire for their children to know Christ, love Scripture, believe the gospel, and walk faithfully with God. And yet, desire alone does not form a God-centered home.
Homes are formed by rhythms. By this, I mean that people are shaped by what is repeated, prioritized, and practiced time and time again. A family can say that Christ is central while the actual patterns of the home tell another story. We have to understand that our family calendars preach to us, that our home habits are actually catechizing our loves. And if we are not careful, the things we never meant to make central slowly become central in our children’s minds and hearts.
This is why the loss of family worship matters so much. But before we go further, we need to slow down and clarify something important. When many people hear the phrase “family worship,” they immediately feel overwhelmed. Or at least I do, and I serve as a pastor, organizing worship services and sermons weekly. It sounds formal, almost like I am doing the same thing I do on Sundays and now I have to do every day. I am sure some people imagine a father giving a miniature sermon at the dinner table while every child sits quietly with folded hands and perfect theological attentiveness. And because that picture feels impossible, many families never begin.
But I have learned family worship is much simpler than that. You see, we have to see that family worship is not a performance. It is not a miniature church service or a seminary lecture. And really, my greatest concern is that parents do not realize that there is no guarantee every child will be converted if family worship in the home. Family worship is not meant to crush weary moms and dads with guilt.
At its heart, family worship is simply this: the regular gathering of a household around God’s Word, prayer, and praise. You see, these three habits and rhythms provide different and important tools that the Lord uses to prepare the heart of a child for things of great importance and value, but in no way do these habits assure that all will follow the Lord all the days of their lives. That is all family worship is: making God’s word, prayer and praise a major part of the normal rhythm of your family’s home.
These three matter because God speaks to us through His Word. So then we respond to Him in prayer, and then naturally we should praise Him for who He is and what He has done. The setting may be a dinner table, a living room, a bedside, a front porch, or a minivan. The length may be five minutes or twenty. The children may be quiet, distracted, fidgety, sleepy, or full of questions. The point is the regular presence of these things, not perfection. Instead, it is always faithfulness. A home does not need to be impressive to be worshipful. Maybe we simply need to recenter our priorities.
The Home Is Already Forming Someone
Every home has a liturgy, which may sound strange at first, since we usually associate liturgy with formal worship services. But a liturgy is simply a pattern of repeated practices that shapes what we love. Every home has those patterns. Every family has habits that teach what matters most. Some homes are shaped around achievement, meaning the most important things are success, performance, or grades. Other homes are shaped around comfort, meaning the most important thing is ease, entertainment, or avoiding anything difficult. Some are shaped around sports, reputation, busyness, or control. The point is that every home screams, “This is what is important,” and thereby says, “This is what you should worship.”
This is why family worship is so important. It is one ordinary way a Christian family says, again and again, “The Lord is at the center here.” Not perfectly, but always saying God is of supreme worth.
We need to be careful because family worship does not mean that every other activity is wrong. But good things become dangerous when they take the place of ultimate things. A child does not merely learn what his parents believe by hearing them on Sunday. He learns what they believe by watching what they make time for on Monday. If Scripture is never opened in the home, children notice. If prayer is only something that happens at church or before meals, children pay attention. If God is rarely mentioned in ordinary conversation, children pick up on those cues. If every other commitment is protected but spiritual rhythms are optional, children notice. Children don’t require flawless parents, but rather honest, dependable, and faithful ones who demonstrate that Christianity is a daily reality.
One of the clearest biblical foundations for family discipleship comes from Deuteronomy 6. After declaring, “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one,” Moses commands God’s people to love the Lord with all their heart, soul, and might. Then he says: “You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.”
Notice where the instruction happens: It happens when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and it happens when you rise. In other words, the Word of God was never meant to be confined to formal religious settings or to sit-down-and-listen-only settings. It was always intended to fill the ordinary spaces of life. The home was to be a place where the knowledge of God was spoken, repeated, and loved.
Here is a big point that we need to consider, this does not replace the gathered worship of God’s people. The church always remains essential. Your kids need to be excited about the preaching of the Word and the Lord’s Supper as essential to life. Pastors, teachers, and the gathered body of Christ are gifts from God that your kids need to see as just that, gifts. But the church’s ministry was never designed to replace the home’s spiritual responsibility.
This is where many Christian families have drifted. We have come to believe that if our children are present at church, involved in programs, and generally surrounded by Christian influences, then they are being discipled. But listen, discipleship is not merely exposure; it is formation. So what is formation if not truth pressed into the heart over time.
Psalm 78 gives us the same vision. The psalmist says that one generation is to tell the next generation “the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” Why? So that the next generation “should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments.” That is the goal. Not merely informed children, but children who set their hope in God.
Read, Pray, Sing
So what does family worship actually involve? At its simplest, it includes three basic movements: read, pray, and sing.
First, read Scripture, and again, this does not need to be complicated. You do not need to prepare a forty-minute lesson or explain every historical detail. Those things can be helpful at times, but they are not the essence of family worship. Instead, trust that as we open the Bible and read together, the Spirit is forming.
Make it a priority to read a Psalm, a paragraph from one of the Gospels, a selection from Genesis, Mark, or Proverbs, or a section from Ephesians. Your goal is to ensure that the Word is present in your home: after reading, ask a couple of simple questions:
What does this teach us about God and His ways?
What does this show us about ourselves—our need, sin, faith, or calling?
What promise, warning, or command should we receive?
How does this point us to Christ and lead us to pray?
The goal is not to make every question profound. In fact, simple questions are often better. The goal is to simply listen to God.
Second, you must pray. Again, keep it simple by praying in response to what you read. Thank God for what He has shown about Himself, confess sin as the passage exposes it, and above all else, ask for help. Teach them to pray for your church, missionaries, suffering friends, and the lost. Children learn to pray by hearing prayer. So they learn by hearing that weakness can be brought to God, or that thanksgiving is appropriate. They learn that confession is normal and that needs should be brought to the Father. A brief, sincere prayer may shape a child more than we realize.
Third, singing or praising is a key part of family worship. For some families, this may feel natural or awkward, and that is okay. You can sing a hymn, a chorus, the doxology, a psalm, or a simple song your children know. Do not forget you can use YouTube if that helps. You can read a hymn aloud if singing feels too difficult at first. The point is not musical excellence. The point is that God is worthy of praise in the home. If singing truly feels impossible in your family at the beginning, start with Scripture and prayer. Do not let the part you cannot yet do keep you from doing what you can. Over time, you may find that praise begins to feel more normal.
So read. Pray. Sing and allow this simple pattern to serve your home for generations. Not because it is flashy, but because it is faithful.
What Family Worship Is Not
It may also help to say what family worship is not, so here are a few things:
Family worship is not a replacement for church. A family that worships at home still needs the gathered people of God. The father is not the pastor of a private church. Family worship should deepen our love for the church, not detach us from it. A healthy home rhythm should make children more prepared to hear the Word preached, sing with the saints, confess sin, receive the ordinances, and live under the care of the body.
As we said before, family worship is also not a guarantee. Some parents may secretly believe, “If I do this consistently, my children will definitely become Christians.” But that is not a promise God has given. Faithful parenting is not like a vending machine, and we do not insert family worship and receive conversion as the guaranteed product. But godly rhythms matter deeply, and only the Spirit gives life. Family worship is not a means of control. It is an act of obedience and dependence.
Family worship is also not a stage for parental expertise. This means that fathers, who hesitate because they do not feel like theologians, or mothers, who hesitate because they fear they will not explain things correctly, are in error. Understand that your children do not need you to pretend. It is okay to say, “I do not know, but let’s find out.” In fact, there is something powerful about children seeing their parents humbly submit to the Word rather than confidently perform above it.
Finally, family worship is also not meant to be long. Sometimes we fail because we try to start too big. We imagine thirty minutes every night with perfectly attentive children. Then, when reality strikes, we quit. But five faithful minutes are better than thirty imaginary ones. A short gathering that actually happens is better than an ideal plan that never does. So start small, and keep it simple.
The great need in many Christian homes is not a more impressive plan, but a recovered center. Christ must not be treated as a guest who occasionally visits our family schedule. He is the Lord and therefore is daily bread. Prayer is not a religious formality; it is the breath of dependence. Praise does not belong only in the church building; it is the fitting response of all of God’s redeemed people. Family worship is one simple way of saying, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord”—not perfectly, not impressively, not without weakness, but truly.
Perhaps that is where many of us need to begin: not with a grand plan, but with repentance and renewed simplicity. “Lord, we need to simply keep you at the center, which means we need to read, pray and sing, so help us, Lord, we plead.”
We live in an age marked by a few defining characteristics which make deep connections and community difficult, but are these cultural characteristics really excuses for the bride of Christ? Sure, we live in a time of amplified individualism, but a large part of the Christian faith is dying to self and living for Christ. Yes, there are shallow relationships, because of the online friends that replace the people we interact with in person, but believers are called not to neglect the gathering together of the saints. The local church is meant to stand as a radically different kind of community. We must not see it as a voluntary association built on shared interests, nor as a network of spiritual consumers gathering merely for an exchange of religious goods and services. Rather, we must begin to see the church as a covenantal body. The New Testament often describes this shared covenant life with the word koinonia. This word describes a fellowship far deeper than casual friendliness or social connection. Biblical fellowship is a shared participation in the life, grace, and promises of Christ Himself. Because believers are united to Christ, they are also bound together in Him as one people. So, a covenantal body or the church, is a people bound together by Christ, committed to one another in love, and called to actively participate in one another’s spiritual formation and life.
In some churches, this covenantal reality is not assumed to exist; it is communicated through documents—such as a church covenant—and through some sort of public affirmation surrounding the two ordinances, which the Lord commands of his people. Through these the church offers clarification on what it means to belong and, more importantly, to care well for one another. These commitments of belonging and caring well move beyond vague notions of kindness and into the idea of embodied, accountable, and intentional love.
To “care well” is not merely to feel affection toward others in the body; it is to take responsibility for their spiritual good in times of growth and struggle. It is to recognize that God has not only saved individuals but has placed them into a people, a covenant community, where growth in Christ is pursued together. Christianity is therefore not merely a private relationship with God but entrance into a covenant community. The gospel reconciles believers vertically to God and horizontally to one another. True koinonia means Christians increasingly share life together—encouraging, correcting, burden-bearing, praying, suffering, rejoicing, and persevering side by side. What follows in the rest of this article is an exploration of what caring well looks like when these covenantal commitments are taken seriously.
One of the clearest expectations placed upon members is the commitment to pursue ‘real and deep relationships.’ This immediately confronts the passive tendencies that often characterize church involvement. Caring well does not happen accidentally; it requires intentional pursuit. Yet, even this idea of intentional pursuit is often misunderstood. To pursue one another means initiating contact, moving toward others rather than waiting to be approached. Connecting and contact breed further connection and contact. This kind of intentional movement towards one another reflects the very pattern of the gospel itself. God moved toward His people in Christ, and now His people move toward one another in covenant fellowship.
Specifically, though, this intentional pursuit means asking meaningful questions while in person, seeking to understand not just surface-level circumstances but the deeper realities of a person’s life and their walk with the Lord. It requires consistency in following up, remembering details, and demonstrating that people are not projects but brothers and sisters. This kind of pursuit reflects the very heart of God, who pursues His people. In a covenant community, that divine pursuit is mirrored in human relationships. Members are not spectators who watch each other from a distance, but participants in one another’s lives. Biblical koinonia refuses to let believers remain anonymous spectators. Fellowship in the New Testament is participatory by nature. Christians are called not merely to attend services together, but to increasingly share their lives together under the lordship of Christ. Without this pursuit, care remains abstract. With it, the church becomes a place where people are truly known. Now, this does not require a deep relationship with all, but a willingness and preparedness to engage with whoever is grieving, struggling, or thriving. The point is not to sit back and wait for connectedness, but to pursue it on your own with all whom we are in covenant with, but specifically at your local church.
One of the church documents that communicates how we “care well” is the church covenant, which explicitly calls members to open their homes and their lives. This is an important concept because it moves care from structured settings into the rhythms of everyday living. While programs and gatherings are valuable, they are insufficient on their own to cultivate a deep sense of community. Opening one’s home is not merely about hospitality in the formal sense; it is about accessibility. It is allowing others to see how one lives, how one struggles, and how one trusts the Lord in ordinary moments. Around tables, in living rooms, and through shared experiences, relationships often deepen, and trust is built. This level of shared life also dismantles barriers by bringing together individuals from different stages of life, backgrounds, and experiences, creating a space where the unity of the Spirit is visibly displayed. In such an environment, care becomes natural rather than forced, as people are woven into the fabric of one another’s lives.
Encouragement and admonishment are a central aspect of caring well. The covenant calls members to build one another up, recognizing that words have the power to either strengthen or weaken the body. To encourage someone is more than offering generic affirmation; it is to speak truth that points others toward Christ. It involves recognizing evidence of grace, reminding one another of God’s promises, and offering perspective in moments of discouragement. This kind of speech requires attentiveness and tactfulness. One cannot encourage well without first listening well. It also requires intentionality, as encouragement rarely happens by accident. Whether through conversations, messages, or written notes, speaking life into one another is a vital expression of care.
To admonish, however, is to faithfully and lovingly speak truth that corrects, redirects, and calls a brother or sister back into alignment with Christ. It is not harsh or reactionary, but patient and purposeful, as it aims to restore a person. Admonishment requires humility, courage, and deep love, for it steps into difficult spaces for the sake of another’s growth in holiness. Done rightly, it is grounded in Scripture, marked by gentleness, and carried out in relationship, always seeking repentance, renewal, and ultimately the joy of walking in obedience to the Lord.
Perhaps one of the most tangible expressions of care is the willingness to carry one another’s burdens. This includes both emotional and practical dimensions: meaning that weeping with those who weep and rejoicing with those who rejoice requires being present. We are called to enter into the experiences of others, not from a distance but up close. In times of suffering, this may involve offering meals, providing childcare, visiting hospitals, or simply sitting in silence beside someone who is grieving. In times of joy, it means celebrating without jealousy or indifference; rejoicing over a new baby, answered prayer, baptism, or spiritual growth in another believer’s life.
Bearing burdens also extends to prayer, but know it is not enough to simply promise to pray. Caring well involves actually interceding for one another, bringing their needs before the Lord regularly and specifically. In these ways, the church becomes a place where no one walks alone. Burdens are shared, and through that sharing, the love of Christ is made visible.
Many church covenants include a commitment to watch over one another and to admonish when necessary. This aspect of care is often neglected, yet it is essential for true spiritual growth. To care well is to be invested in the holiness of others. This means being willing to ask hard questions, to address sin with gentleness and humility, and to walk alongside one another in repentance. This commitment requires courage, as such conversations can be uncomfortable. Yet it also requires love, because the goal is always restoration, not condemnation.
Once there is the understanding that sanctification is not a solitary endeavor, mutual accountability within the church body forms. God uses the body of Christ as a means of grace, shaping individuals through the input and influence of others. When this is embraced, the church becomes a place where growth is actively pursued and supported.
Yet, we also need to firmly believe that any community can not function without forgiveness, and the covenant community of the church is no exception. The commitment to bear with one another necessarily implies that there will be offenses to endure. Caring well means refusing to harbor bitterness or to keep a record of wrongs. It involves extending forgiveness as one has been forgiven in Christ. This does not minimize sin but addresses it in a way that seeks reconciliation between parties.
Again, we see that caring well means moving towards people because forgiveness also requires purposeful initiative. It is not passive but active, moving toward others rather than waiting for them to come. In doing so, this care reflects the gospel, where God moved toward His people in grace. A forgiving community is a healthy community. It creates space for honesty, repentance, and restoration, all of which are essential for genuine care.
Faithful presence is another foundational aspect of care. Covenant membership calls members not to neglect gathering together, recognizing that regular participation in the life of the church is essential. Yet, caring well requires being present, not only physically but also relationally. It involves engaging in worship, listening to the Word, and participating in the ordinances. The ordinances themselves reinforce this covenant reality. Baptism publicly identifies believers with Christ and His people, while the Lord’s Supper continually renews and displays the church’s shared fellowship in Christ. It also means being available to others, creating opportunities for interaction and support.
Absence, whether physical or relational, limits one’s ability to care, but also makes one feel like they are not cared for. Being present, on the other hand, creates the context in which care can take place both in giving and receiving. It allows relationships to develop and provides opportunities for ministry.
Caring well also includes financial generosity as another expression of care. The covenant calls members to contribute to the needs of the church, the relief of the poor, and the spread of the gospel. This generosity reflects a shift in perspective on what matters most. Resources are no longer viewed as personal possessions to be guarded but as gifts to be stewarded for the good of others. Through giving, members participate in meeting needs, supporting ministry, and advancing the mission. This aspect of care is often unseen but deeply impactful. It enables the church to function and extend its reach, both locally and globally.
The church’s commitment to walk alongside new members toward maturity highlights the ongoing nature of care to those in the church. It is not limited to moments of crisis but extends throughout the Christian life. To care well is to be invested in the long-term growth of others. It involves teaching, modeling, encouraging, and correcting over time. It recognizes that maturity is a process and that God uses relationships as a means to bring it about. When a local church gains this perspective, it will completely transform how members view one another. They are not simply co-attenders but fellow pilgrims, journeying together toward Christlikeness.
However, this Christ-likeness is not the only goal; caring well also entails a shared commitment to the church’s mission. Members are not only called to care for one another but also to work together to reach others with the gospel. This outward focus prevents the church from becoming inwardly focused or self-serving. It reminds members that the care they experience is meant to overflow to others. As they labor together in mission, their unity is strengthened, and their love is displayed to each other and the watching world.
To care well in the local church is to embrace a covenantal vision of community—one that is intentional, sacrificial, and deeply rooted in the gospel. It is to recognize that God has called His people not only to Himself but also to one another. This kind of care does not happen naturally; it requires commitment, initiative, and the Spirit. Yet it is precisely this commitment that sets the church apart. In a world longing for authentic community, the church has the opportunity to display something profoundly different: a people who love one another not out of convenience but out of covenant.
Such care reflects the love of Christ, who entered into our lives, bore our burdens, spoke truth to us, forgave us, and continues to walk with us toward maturity. As the church embodies this love, it becomes a living testimony to the power of the gospel—a community where care is not merely spoken of but lived out in tangible and transformative ways.
There are moments in a pastor’s life when truth doesn’t come from a commentary, a conference, or a counseling session, but from across the dinner table. This series began from one of those moments. Not long ago, I read through my daughter’s senior thesis,“Family Worship Is a Biblical Necessity for the Christian Home.” I expected to be encouraged; I did not expect to be confronted. As I read, I realized something unsettling: she was not uncovering something new, she was uncovering something we (I) have forgotten. Something that had once been obvious to the church, assumed in the home, and practiced with regularity. It was something so central that men like Jonathan Edwards would speak of it in their final words to the church he was leaving, and reformers, like Martin Luther, would consider it essential to their calling. And yet, if we are honest, it is largely absent from many homes, not denied or debated, just…missing. She helped me see that the issue is not merely theological; it is practical, cultural, and deeply personal. We have not argued our way out of family worship; we have drifted away from it, and that is what makes it dangerous.
Most Christian families today would affirm that discipleship matters. They would say they want their children to know the Lord, love His Word, and walk in His ways. Yet when you examine the rhythms of their home, something else has taken center stage. Discipleship, for many, has slowly become something we have outsourced to programs we attend. And this makes it easier for us because we can add them to our schedules. Really, activities have become dominant; as activities multiply, screens fill the silence, and discipleship, if it happens at all, is lost in the shuffle.
There was a statistic in my daughter’s paper that stopped me in my tracks: fewer than one-twentieth of Christian households regularly worship God together outside of church. Think about that. That means in a room of twenty Christian families, maybe one is consistently gathering to read Scripture, pray, and worship together in the home. This is not a small drift. This is a structural collapse that will have ripple effects for generations.
And yet, here is the part that scares me more: most families do not feel the weight of this hole. Why? Because something has stepped in to fill the gap. Here is my best guess as to why this hole in Christian families is unseen and, more importantly, unfelt: we have subtly redefined spiritual formation to mean attending church regularly, participating in programs, and being generally “moral” or “involved.” But this is where we must remember Scripture never places the primary burden of discipleship on programs or institutions. It places it squarely on the home, not as a replacement for the church, but as the foundation that supports it.
If we are honest, many parents today feel deeply responsible for their children’s education, athletics, social development, and opportunities. They give time, energy, and intentionality to shaping those areas of life, often at great personal cost. But far fewer feel that same weight when it comes to their children’s souls being deeply nourished in God and His truths. This surely is not because they don’t care, but because they assume someone else is handling it.
The church will teach them. The youth group will engage them. The Christian school will shape them. And while all of those can be real blessings, none of them were ever meant to replace what happens in the home. They are meant to support it, reinforce it, and build upon it, but never be a substitute for it.
The result of this shift away from family worship is subtle but significant. Children grow up with what is often called a secondhand faith; a faith they have observed but not truly owned. It is a faith they have seen on Sundays, heard only in passing, or borrowed from their parents’ convictions, but one that has never been deeply worked into their own hearts. They know the language, they recognize the rhythms, and they may even affirm the truths, but it still remains external. And what is not internalized rarely endures.
Alongside this, they often develop a fragmented understanding of Scripture. Instead of seeing the Bible as a unified, unfolding story of God’s redemption, they encounter it in isolated pieces; stories here, lessons there, disconnected moments that never quite form a coherent whole. Without regular, intentional exposure in the home, Scripture can feel like a collection of moral examples rather than the living Word that shapes all of life. And over time, this leads to a weak connection between daily life and God’s presence. Faith becomes something associated with places and events, like church services, youth gatherings, special moments, rather than the steady, daily reality of walking with God. The scary thing about this is that the result is not always immediate rejection, but quiet distance. God is not denied; He is simply not near. And when faith is not woven into the ordinary fabric of life, it often unravels when life becomes difficult, complex, or independent. And worst of all, eventually, when they leave the home, they often leave the faith, not because it was aggressively attacked, but because it was never deeply rooted in the first place.
One of the most penetrating insights from my daughter’s thesis is this: every family worships something. Not just religious families, every family. Some orient their lives around achievement, comfort, sports, success, or entertainment. Others center everything on stability, reputation, or simply the constant movement of busyness. But no home is neutral; every home is ultimately shaped around something it treats as most valuable.
The question, then, is not whether your family worships. The question is: what is at the center? Because whatever sits at the center of your family will inevitably shape your conversations, drive your decisions, and, do not miss this, form your children. Over time, that central reality—whether it is God or something else—will become the god your children carry with them into adulthood.
It would be easy to treat family worship as just another “good idea,” helpful, maybe, encouraging perhaps, but ultimately optional. However, Scripture does not give us that category. Throughout the Bible, the assumption is clear: God’s Word is to be taught diligently in the home, children are to be instructed in the ways of the Lord, and the knowledge of God is to be woven into the fabric of daily life.
This is not occasional; it is constant. Something will embody your home and therefore be practiced in your home. And when family worship and godly rhythms disappear, something else inevitably takes its place, not nothing, but something.
The greatest danger here is not open rebellion, but quiet neglect. Most families do not wake up one day and consciously decide, “We will not lead our children spiritually.” There is no formal rejection, no deliberate turning away. Instead, it sounds far more ordinary, even reasonable: “We’re just really busy right now.” “We’ll get to it when things slow down.” “We’re doing the best we can.” And in those small, seemingly harmless delays, something far more significant is happening beneath the surface.
Slowly, over time, patterns begin to form. Days pass without Scripture being opened together. Weeks pass without intentional prayer as a family. Months pass without meaningful, God-centered conversation. Nothing dramatic occurs, no crisis, and yet something essential is quietly disappearing. What once might have felt like a gap begins to feel normal, and what feels normal is rarely questioned.
But we cannot miss this point: what feels normal is not neutral; it is always deeply formative. Neglect does not leave a vacuum; it shapes, because the human heart, and the home for that matter, is never empty. When something central is removed or ignored, it is not as though nothing fills the space. Rather, the space demands to be filled. In the absence of intentional spiritual leadership, other voices, values, and priorities do not politely wait at the door, but they rush in and take up residence. What is not formed by truth will be formed by something else.
If Scripture is not regularly opened, other narratives will disciple your children. If prayer is not modeled, self-reliance will quietly become the default. If God is not made central in the rhythms of the home, something else will become ultimate, and often without anyone explicitly choosing it. The vacuum is not neutral ground; it is contested ground, and it will always be claimed by something.
Over time, this means that what was neglected does not simply remain undeveloped because it will simply be replaced. The absence of intentional worship becomes the presence of functional idols. The lack of spiritual conversation gives way to the dominance of cultural assumptions. And what begins as a quiet omission becomes a powerful formation. In other words, if we do not actively shape the spiritual life of our homes, something else will most certainly.
Before we go further in this series, defining, defending, and building a theology of family worship, you need something simple and actionable. Not overwhelming, not complicated, just a place to begin.
First, take inventory of your home’s rhythm. Before you change anything, look honestly at what already exists. Ask yourself: what fills our evenings? What do we prioritize when time is limited? What do our children see us consistently value? You don’t need to guess what your family worships; your calendar already tells you. This step is not about guilt; it is about clarity, because you cannot re-center what you have not first examined.
Second, identify one time you can protect. Do not start with an ideal; instead, start with reality. Find one consistent moment, whether it is after dinner, before bed, early in the morning, or even just ten minutes in the evening, and protect it. Not perfectly, but intentionally. Family worship does not begin with a perfect system; it begins with a protected time that signals what truly matters.
Third, start talking about God again. Before you formalize anything, begin by bringing God back into the normal conversation of your home. Talk about what you are reading in Scripture, ask your children what they learned at church or heard in the sermon, pray briefly and naturally, and acknowledge God’s work in everyday moments. Family worship is not just an event—it is a culture, and culture begins with conversation.
Let me say this plainly, as both a pastor and a father: you do not need to be a theologian to lead your home. You do not need a seminary degree, perfect words, or a fully formed plan. What your children need is not perfection, but consistency. They do not need a polished lesson, but your presence together around the Word. Above all else, they do not need a performance, but a visible dependence on God. They need to see their father open the Word, their parents pray, and their home oriented around something eternal.
This first article is meant to awaken us. In the coming articles, we will define what family worship actually is, see how Scripture commands and models it, learn from the church throughout history, address the real obstacles families face, and build a simple, sustainable way to begin. But before we do any of that, we need to feel this: something essential has been lost, and it is worth recovering.
The goal of this series is not to add another burden to your life, but to restore something that gives life to your home. Because when God is central, conversations deepen, relationships strengthen, and faith becomes tangible. The home is beginning to become what it was always meant to be: a place where God is known, where He is honored, and where the next generation learns to worship.
So let me simply say this: do not let this remain theoretical. Look at your home. Look at your rhythms. Look at what is forming your children. And begin to ask: what would it look like for God to be at the center again?
As we come to the end of this series on assurance, please know that there are numerous other biblical realities we could explore in the Scriptures to help foster greater confidence in assurance. However, it seems the most helpful reality to pause and consider, in this moment, is this simple but deeply important question:
If everything we have seen is true, then what kind of salvation do believers actually have?
We have seen that a biblical doctrine of assurance is not grounded in a moment we remember, but in the finished work of Christ. We have seen that it is not something we create by our own will, but something that begins with the Spirit giving us new life. We have also seen that assurance is not meant to grow in isolation, but is strengthened through the Word, the ordinances, and the life of the local church. But now we need to step back and see the bigger picture of salvation that the Triune God planned before the foundations of the world and has accomplished throughout the history of human existence. It may be easier to understand what exactly this picture is, if it is in the form of a question: who is actually responsible for our salvation from beginning to end?
The Bible’s answer is both simple and incredibly comforting: The Triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This reality changes everything about assurance. Because if salvation ultimately depends on us—our memory, our consistency, our effort—then assurance will always feel shaky, which means some days we will feel confident, and other days we will be filled with doubt. In contrast, if salvation rests on the work of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, then our confidence rests on something far more stable—God Himself.
So let us consider together the work of the Trinity in the purpose and accomplishment of salvation for all who believe. Before we do, it will be helpful to briefly define what we mean by the Trinity. While the word “Trinity” itself is not found in the Bible, the reality it describes is clearly revealed throughout Scripture. There are many excellent works that explore the beauty and depth of this doctrine, but for our purposes here, we simply need to be reminded of three foundational truths:
First, there is one God who has eternally existed as three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. These three are not separate gods, but one God, equal in glory and fully sharing the same divine nature.
Second, the persons of the Trinity have eternally existed in perfect harmony, joy, and fellowship with one another. God has never been lonely, lacking, or dependent on anything outside of Himself. He is complete in Himself.
Third, out of this perfect unity and shared purpose, the Father, Son, and Spirit together determined to create and redeem a people who would share in their joy, live in fellowship with them, and find their rest in worshiping God alone forever.
These truths matter deeply for assurance because they remind us that our salvation is not an afterthought or a fragile arrangement—it is rooted in the eternal purpose of God Himself. The Father planned it, the Son accomplished it, and the Spirit applies it, all in perfect unity. That means our assurance does not rest on our ability to hold everything together, but on the unchanging purpose and power of the Triune God who never acts in conflict, never fails in His plans, and never abandons His work. With these foundational truths in mind, let us now consider how each person of the Trinity works in perfect unity to accomplish and secure our salvation, beginning with the Father’s purpose.
The Father’s Purpose: Loved, Chosen, and Kept
Before you or anyone ever turned to God, before you ever believed, before you even understood the gospel, God the Father had already set His love on His people. That may be difficult to fully grasp, but it is what Scripture teaches. As John reminds us, “we love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19), and Paul tells us that the Father chose us in Christ “before the foundation of the world” (Ephesians 1:4). The Father is not reacting to our faith; He is the source of it. He is not waiting to see what we will do; He is the One who acts first in salvation.
Scripture goes even further, showing us that this saving work is not only initiated by God but carried in every way by Him. Those whom He calls, He also justifies and will ultimately glorify (Romans 8:30). In other words, what God begins, He faithfully brings to completion. That means your salvation is not an unfinished project that depends on your ability to hold everything together. It is something that began and is sustained in the heart and purpose of God.
Jesus makes this even more personal when He says that no one can snatch His people out of the Father’s hand (John 10:29). Think about that for a moment. Your security is not based on how tightly you hold onto God rather it is based on how securely He holds onto you. This completely reshapes how we think about assurance.
Many people live as if their place in God’s family depends on their performance. When they are doing well spiritually, they feel confident. When they stumble, they begin to question everything. But Scripture points us in a different direction. Your place in God’s family is not maintained by your strength. It is secured by the Father’s love; and the Father does not change.
This does not lead to carelessness, as some might assume, rather it is meant to lead us into rest. Not a passive or indifferent rest, but a settled confidence in God that steadies the heart. Instead of constantly looking inward and wondering if we have done enough or believed strongly enough, we are freed to look outside of ourselves and to Him. It produces a quiet, enduring confidence that says, ‘My hope is not in myself. My hope is in the God who chose me, loves me, and keeps me.’
The Son’s Work: Finished, Complete, and Ongoing
If the Father planned salvation, then we can see that the Son accomplished it. At the very center of assurance is the finished work of Jesus Christ, as we have already seen in previous articles. But it is worth briefly reviewing the fullness of what the Son accomplished for His people, according to the Father’s will.
When Jesus went to the cross, He did not make salvation possible in a vague or uncertain way. He actually secured it. He did so by paying the full price for sin. He satisfied God’s justice by absorbing His wrath fully for all who would believe. This means when He said, “It is finished,” He meant that the work of redemption was done and there is nothing left for you to add. You are not saved partly by Christ and partly by your effort. You are saved completely by Him. This is why the Bible constantly directs us away from ourselves and back to Christ. We are declared righteous not because we have become perfect, but because Christ’s righteousness is given to us. Our sins are forgiven not because we have fixed everything, but because Christ has paid for everything.
But here is where we must remember and rejoice that the work of Christ does not stop at the cross. He rose from the dead, thereby showing that His sacrifice was accepted and that it purchased our full redemption. He ascended into heaven, and right now, He is interceding for His people. Hebrews tells us that He “always lives to make intercession” for us. That means Jesus is not just someone who saved you in the past—He is someone who is actively sustaining you right now.
Think of it this way: when you sin, He does not abandon you; instead, He intercedes for you. When you struggle, He does not step back from you; rather, He continues to represent you. When you feel weak, He is the one who sympathizes with you and remains strong on your behalf.
Now these truths are amazing and so important for assurance. Here is why: many people, when they begin to doubt, ask questions like, “Was my faith real enough?” or “Did I really mean it when I believed?” But Scripture gently redirects us to a better question: “Is Christ sufficient?” And the overwhelming answer is YES!
Your assurance is not grounded in how strong your faith feels—it is grounded in how strong your Savior actually is. He is the one who can save completely. He is also the one who can hold you securely. Most importantly, He can bring you all the way home. But the work of salvation does not end with what the Son has accomplished for us; it must be applied to us—and this is the gracious work of the Holy Spirit.
The Spirit’s Work: Giving Life and Sustaining It
If the Father planned salvation and the Son accomplished it, the Holy Spirit applies it and sustains it in the life of His people. We have already seen how important regeneration is in a previous article. There must be a confidence, rooted in Scripture, that the Christian life does not begin with our decision; it begins with the Spirit making us alive.
Where there was once spiritual blindness in our lives, He gives sight. Where there was once a hard heart completely resistant to His ways, He provides a soft heart pliable to His working hands. Where there was once indifference toward God, He creates real affection. But the Spirit not only begins the Christian life, we must see that He also continues it.
Throughout the New Testament, we read how the Holy Spirit lives within every believer. This is something we could often take for granted, unless we remember what He is doing deep within us: He produces conviction when we sin; He creates a growing love for Christ; and the Holy Spirit shapes our desires so that we begin to want what God wants. And Scripture tells us that these are the ways the Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God (Romans 8:16).
Yet we must recognize that this is usually not a dramatic or emotional experience; most of the time, it is quiet and steady. The reality of the Holy Spirit begins to show itself in simple but real ways: you start to see your sin more clearly, you feel a genuine desire to turn from it, you find yourself drawn to Christ even when you feel weak, and you begin to long to be with God’s people and to hear His Word. These are not things you naturally produce on your own; they are signs of life, evidence that the Spirit is at work within you. And here is the key: the Spirit who gave you life is the same Spirit who continues to sustain that life till the final day. See this clearly and rejoice in this, you are not keeping yourself spiritually alive day by day…God is.
This is why, even in seasons of struggle, real believers do not ultimately fall away. They may wander, they may stumble, they may go through dry and difficult seasons, but the Spirit continues to work, to convict, to draw, and to restore.
One Unified Work: A Salvation That Cannot Fail
When we step back and consider the work of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit together, we begin to see that our salvation is not a collection of separate acts, but one unified work of God. Salvation is not held together by you, rather it is held together by God, the question then is how? It is only because the Father chose and keeps you, the Son died for you and intercedes for you, and the Spirit made you alive and continues to work in you. Rejoice and be comforted that this is one unified work. And because of that, your salvation is not fragile.
This is why Scripture can say with such confidence that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ. It is why we are told that He who began a good work will bring it to completion. Assurance, then, is not wishful thinking. It is the natural result of understanding who God is and what He has done.
A Final Word to the One Who Doubts
If you are someone who struggles with assurance, hear this clearly: your confidence is not found in looking more closely at yourself, but in looking more steadily at Christ. You may feel weak, your faith may feel small, and you may struggle with sin more than you would like. But if you find yourself clinging to Christ, even imperfectly, that is not something to dismiss; it is something to take seriously. Weak faith in a strong Savior still saves. You are not holding onto Christ by yourself—He is holding onto you. So look again to what God has done: the Father has set His love on you, the Son has paid for your sin, and the Spirit is at work within you. Let your confidence rest there.
A Final Word to the One Who Is Comfortable Without Change
At the same time, we must speak honestly. These truths are not meant to give comfort to someone who shows no real evidence of spiritual life. If there is no repentance, no desire for Christ, no concern over sin, and no love for God’s people, then the issue is not weak assurance—it is misplaced assurance. The same God who saves also transforms, and the same grace that forgives also changes us. This does not mean perfection, nor does it mean there will be no struggle, but it does mean there is a new direction—a growing desire to follow Christ. And if that is absent, the answer is not to try harder to feel assured, but to come truly to Christ.
The End Goal of Assurance is Worship and Perseverance
When assurance is rightly understood, it does not make us passive—it reshapes how we live. We begin to obey, not to earn God’s love, but because we already have it. We repent, not to secure forgiveness, but because we are forgiven. We persevere, not because everything depends on us, but because God is faithfully preserving us. And over time, something begins to grow within us—not a loud or fleeting emotional certainty, but a quiet, steady confidence. A settled trust that says, ‘I belong to Christ, and Christ will not fail to bring me home.’ This kind of assurance produces humility, not pride; perseverance, not laziness; and worship, not self-focus. It lifts our eyes away from ourselves and fixes them on God, so that we begin to see that our salvation is not ultimately about what we have done for Him, but about what He has done for us.
So if you find yourself struggling with assurance, do not withdraw. Instead, lean more deeply into the very things God has given to strengthen your confidence. Sit under the preaching of the Word. Remain among the people of God. Come to the Lord’s Table. Hear the gospel again and again. Assurance does not grow in isolation—it grows as the Spirit uses these means to continually set Christ before you. And as you do, remember this: your hope does not rest in the strength of your faith, but in the faithfulness of your God. The Father will not abandon you, the Son will not fail you, and the Spirit will not leave you. Because of that, you can have real, lasting, and unshakable assurance. You belong to Christ—and He will bring you home.
In many churches today, when talking about the assurance of salvation, the conversation often goes in one of two directions. Some believers quietly struggle with doubts. They wonder if their faith is real or if they have somehow disappointed God and fallen short. Others feel confident about their salvation, but that confidence is based almost entirely on something that happened long ago—perhaps a prayer, a decision, or a moment they remember as the start of their ‘Christian life.’
However, neither of these approaches really match what the Bible shows us concerning assurance of salvation. Scripture does not present assurance as something that rests only on a moment in the past, nor as something we could discover by constantly looking inward and analyzing ourselves. Instead, the New Testament points believers to something much steadier and more reliable: God’s ongoing work to strengthen and sustain our faith through the ordinary means he has prescribed to us.
We have already seen in previous articles that true assurance is grounded in the finished work of Christ and rooted in the regenerating work of the Spirit. The next question that naturally follows is this: How does God strengthen that assurance in the life of a believer?
The answer Scripture gives is actually very simple. God strengthens the confidence of His people through what Christians have historically called the means of grace.
Many people today think of the means of grace mainly as personal spiritual habits, like reading the Bible, praying, meditating on Scripture. These practices certainly matter, and God often uses them to strengthen our faith. But when we look more closely at the Bible and the life of the early church, we begin to see that these practices were never meant to exist mainly as private spiritual exercises.
Instead, Scripture consistently places the means of grace within the life of the local church. For example, in Acts 2, we are given a picture of the early church, which formed immediately after the gospel began to spread. Luke, the author of Acts, tells us that the believers “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42). Notice how these means of grace are described. The Word is taught in community, the people gather in fellowship, they share in the breaking of bread, and they pray together. These were not isolated personal practices but shared rhythms of life among the people of God.
The same emphasis appears throughout the rest of the New Testament as well. Paul instructs Timothy to focus on the public ministry of Scripture when the church gathers: “Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching” (1 Timothy 4:13).
Likewise, the author of Hebrews reminds believers that their faith is strengthened when they continue gathering together: “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering… not neglecting to meet together… but encouraging one another” (Hebrews 10:23–25). In other words, God designed the Christian life so that believers would grow in confidence together as they hear the Word, confess the faith, pray, and encourage one another as He has prescribed.
Throughout church history, Christians understood this clearly. This is one reason churches developed creeds and confessions, shared statements of faith that believers recited together when they gathered for worship. These confessions helped the church proclaim the truth of the gospel with one voice and reminded believers of God’s promises again and again.
In many ways, modern culture has pushed us to think about faith in a more individual way. We often view salvation primarily as a personal decision and the spiritual growth that follows as something that happens mostly in private. While personal faith is essential, the Bible consistently shows that God strengthens and confirms true faith within the community of His people.
When the church gathers to hear the Word preached, pray together, confess the truth of the gospel, and especially come to the Lord’s Table, Christ is continually set before His people. And as believers participate in these ordinary rhythms of worship together, their trust in Him grows deeper, and their assurance becomes stronger. So, in light of this, let us briefly consider some of those elements of grace within the local church and how God’s give assurance through them.
The Word of God: The Primary Instrument of Assurance
If assurance grows through the means of grace, then the first and central means is the Word of God. Throughout the New Testament, believers are continually brought back to the promises of the gospel. The apostles assume that Christians do not merely need new information but repeated reminders of the same saving truth. The gospel is not simply the doorway into the Christian life—it is the ongoing nourishment of faith.
Peter writes, “I intend always to remind you of these qualities, though you know them and are established in the truth that you have” (2 Peter 1:12). Likewise, Paul tells the Corinthians, “Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand” (1 Corinthians 15:1).
The pattern is clear. The apostles strengthen believers not by introducing new revelations rather by rehearsing the gospel again and again, all while deepening and clarifying it. This repetition is necessary because assurance is inseparably connected to faith, and faith itself is nourished through hearing the promises of God. “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17).
For this reason, Scripture places great emphasis on the public ministry of the Word when the church gathers. When believers assemble under the preaching of Scripture, they encounter once again the same gospel that first awakened them to life. Through that proclamation, the Spirit deepens their confidence that the promises of God truly belong to them.
I. Packer captured this idea well when he wrote that assurance “is not a matter of working up a feeling of confidence; it grows out of faith in the promises of the gospel and is strengthened as those promises are repeatedly brought before us.” As believers continually hear the promises of Christ proclaimed, the Spirit strengthens their confidence that those promises truly belong to them. For Packer and for us, assurance is inseparable from the promises of God revealed in Scripture. As believers continually hear those promises proclaimed in the life of the church, their confidence in Christ grows stronger.
Preaching, therefore, is never merely informational. It is formational and confirmational. Through the preached Word, Christ himself is set before His people, and the Spirit uses that proclamation to strengthen their assurance that salvation rests securely in Him.
The Ordinances: Visible Promises of the Gospel
Alongside the preaching of the Word, Christ has given his church the ordinances, that is baptism and the Lord’s Supper, as visible confirmations of the gospel. If the Word addresses the ears, the ordinances address the eyes and hands. They present the same promises of the gospel in visible form, reminding believers that the grace proclaimed in Scripture is not an abstract idea but a reality secured by Christ.
In baptism, believers are reminded that they have been united with Christ in His death and resurrection. “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (Romans 6:3–4). Baptism visibly portrays the cleansing of sin and the beginning of new life in Christ. It marks a believer’s entrance into the covenant community and reminds the church that salvation rests entirely upon Christ’s work.
The Lord’s Supper continues this gospel proclamation. When Jesus instituted the meal, He commanded His disciples, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). This remembrance is not merely mental reflection but a covenantal participation in the promises of the gospel. As the church gathers at the table, believers are reminded again that the Savior who once died for them continues to sustain them.
The Puritan theologian John Owen reflected deeply on this connection between the Spirit, the Word, and the ordinances. Owen emphasized that the Spirit ordinarily strengthens assurance not through private mystical experiences but through the believer’s engagement with the promises of the gospel as they are proclaimed and displayed in the life of the church. As he wrote, the Spirit works “in and by the Word” to give believers a spiritual sense of the love of God in Christ. In this way, the ordinances reinforce what the Word proclaims: that salvation rests entirely upon the completed work of Christ.
The Local Church: A Community of Confirmation
Assurance is also strengthened through the shared life of the local church. The New Testament consistently portrays the Christian life as something lived within a community of believers. Faith is deeply personal, but it is never meant to be private. God has designed the church as a spiritual family in which believers encourage one another, bear one another’s burdens, and help confirm the reality of grace in one another’s lives.
The author of Hebrews writes, “Exhort one another every day… that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Hebrews 3:13). Isolation often magnifies doubts and discouragement. But when believers gather together, they hear the same gospel, confess the same faith, and see the evidence of God’s grace at work in one another.
Pastors throughout church history recognized this communal dimension of assurance. The Puritans, often remembered for their emphasis on self-examination, also stressed the importance of remaining faithful to the ordinary rhythms of church life. When believers struggled with doubt, pastors commonly counseled them not to withdraw but to remain steadfast in hearing the Word, participating in the Lord’s Supper, and walking closely with fellow believers.
Even church discipline, though often misunderstood, serves this purpose. By guarding the church’s integrity and calling wandering believers back to repentance, discipline protects the community from self-deception and helps preserve the clarity of the gospel among God’s people.
Assurance Through the Gathered Life of the Church
When we step back and consider these realities together, a clear biblical pattern emerges: Assurance flourishes through ongoing exposure to the gospel and the means of grace within the church community.
The New Testament repeatedly calls believers to remember, hold fast, and continue in the faith. These commands assume that Christians need ongoing reminders of what Christ has accomplished. The apostles continually rehearse the gospel because they know that assurance does not grow through speculation, emotional intensity, or endless self-analysis, but through repeated encounters with God’s promises.
Paul writes, “Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith” (2 Corinthians 13:5). Yet this examination is never meant to trap believers in constant introspection. Instead, it directs them back to the objective reality of Christ’s work. The Christian life is not sustained by repeatedly searching for certainty within ourselves, but by continually returning to the promises of the gospel.
And this is precisely what happens when the church gathers. Each Lord’s Day, believers assemble under the Word of God. They hear the gospel proclaimed again. They confess the truths of the faith together. They lift their voices in prayer and praise. They witness baptisms that remind them of new life in Christ. They come to the Lord’s Table and are reminded that the body of Christ was broken and His blood shed for their salvation.
Through these ordinary rhythms of worship, Christ is continually set before His people:
Through the preaching of the Word, believers hear God’s promises again.
Through the ordinances, those promises are visibly displayed.
Through the fellowship of the church, believers are encouraged, corrected, and strengthened.
These means do not replace the work of the Spirit; they are the instruments through which the Spirit works. Week after week, year after year, believers encounter the gospel again and again. And as the Spirit uses these ordinary means to deepen their trust in Christ, assurance gradually grows—not as a fleeting emotional experience, but as a settled confidence rooted in the faithfulness of God.
Over time, believers begin to see more clearly what has always been true, their hope does not rest in the strength of their faith but in the faithfulness of the Savior who has redeemed them.
A Pastoral Plea
For this reason, the gathering of the church is not optional for the Christian life. It is one of the primary ways God strengthens the faith and assurance of His people.
When believers drift away from the rhythms of the gathered church, they often find their confidence in Christ weakening. Doubts grow louder, discouragement deepens, and faith begins to feel fragile. But when the people of God gather regularly under the promises of the gospel, the Spirit patiently strengthens their hearts.
So when you struggle with assurance, do not withdraw from the church. Instead, lean more deeply into the life of the body. Sit again under the preaching of the Word and join your voice with the church in confessing the faith. Come to the Lord’s Table and remember Christ’s sacrifice for you.
It is there, among the gathered people of God, under the promises of the gospel, that the Spirit steadily forms in believers a confident and enduring assurance that they truly belong to Christ.
In this series, we have been tracing the foundation of biblical assurance and addressing some common distortions that have quietly shaped how many Christians think about their salvation. In the first article, we saw that Scripture anchors a person’s assurance not in inward analysis or remembered experiences, but in the finished work of Christ and the faithful character of God. This assurance must be Christ-centered, Spirit-enabled, hope-shaped, and nurtured within the life of the local church. In the second article, we examined how modern decisionalism and the Sinner’s Prayer have often relocated assurance from Christ’s present intercession to a past decision, thus subtly shifting the believer’s confidence from a living Savior to a remembered moment. While prayer and public profession are not wrong, grounding one’s assurance primarily in them can lead either to anxious self-doubt or careless presumption.
But this raises a deeper and more necessary question: What actually happens when a person is saved? If assurance is not grounded in the sincerity of a past decision, then it must be grounded in something else, something far more substantial. Scripture does not describe salvation as an individual merely making a choice, but as someone being made alive. It does not present conversion primarily as a human act, but rather as a divine work. Jesus speaks of being “born again,” and born “of the Spirit.” Paul speaks of God making us alive when we were dead. The prophets promised a new heart, not merely new intentions. So, before we can rightly speak about perseverance, warnings, or the means of grace, we must understand regeneration, which is the sovereign, life-giving work of the Spirit that brings a sinner from death to life. The goal of this article, and of this series, is not to cast doubt or spread confusion about one’s salvation, but to clarify the waters of how the Bible speaks to us about this most important topic. May we all, with humility, seek to delight in the means God has given us to find biblical assurance.
I have often heard that the basis of assurance is in examining the fruit, which has some level of biblical warrant, but I have also seen something that gives me cause for concern regarding this as a metric of assurance. Imagine walking past two apple trees. One is vibrant, rooted deep in good soil, drawing water from below. The other looks impressive from a distance, but when you walk closer, you notice something strange: apples have been stapled onto its branches. From far away, they look similar. But one tree has life in its roots. The other has decoration on its limbs.
You see, you can attach fruit externally, but you cannot manufacture life from within. That is the difference regeneration makes. Decisionalism often staples fruit onto dead branches: it is simply external profession, religious language, and church attendance. But true regeneration plants life deep inside the root, and when the root is alive, fruit will grow naturally over time.
The Biblical Order of Salvation
Scripture gives us an order to salvation that protects both God’s glory and the believer’s peace. While these realities of salvation often occur together in experience, they have a logical order in God’s saving work: regeneration, repentance/faith, justification, and adoption.
In this list, often called Ordo Salutis, regeneration comes first. Regeneration is what Jesus calls being “born again” (John 3). In this passage, when Nicodemus came to Jesus, he assumed the kingdom could be entered through effort, morality, or religious knowledge. Jesus corrected him immediately saying, “Unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Notice the language carefully. Jesus does not say, “Unless one decides,” or “Unless one commits,” but “Unless one is born.” The idea of birth is important because birth is not self-generated. A child does not bring himself into the world, instead, birth is something that happens to him.
John reinforces this truth when he writes that those who receive Christ are born “not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12–13). In other words, salvation is not ultimately traced back to human willpower. It is traced back to God’s gracious initiative.
The Old Testament anticipated this long before the New Testament made it explicit. Through the prophet Ezekiel, God promised, “I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh” (Ezek. 36). That promise was not about behavior modification, but about a heart transformation. A stone heart does not and cannot respond. It does not have the desire to love God or obey His commands. But God promised to replace that heart of stone with a living heart.
Paul echoes this again when he writes that salvation comes “by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3). Regeneration means new birth, which flows into a new life. It means that what was spiritually dead is now made spiritually alive by God through his Spirit.
So the first act in salvation is the Spirit moving to give a new heart or to regenerate someone, and this distinction is critical: regeneration is not self-generated. It is not the product of moral reform, emotional intensity, or intellectual agreement. It is the Spirit’s work, and just like the wind, you do not know where it comes from or where it is going, but you see its effects (John 3).
But what follows from regeneration? Once the Spirit gives new life, the heart begins to respond with repentance and faith. We begin to see sin not merely as inconvenient but as offensive to a holy and gracious God. We trust Christ not merely because we were persuaded by an argument, but because we now see His beauty, sufficiency, and supreme worth. Personal faith is not the cause of new birth; it is the fruit or result of it.
There is a great illustration for this: Imagine you walk into a dark room. Furniture is everywhere, but you cannot see it. As you move around the room you bump into things and begin to blame the room’s layout. Then someone flips on the light. What changed? The furniture did not move. The room did not rearrange itself. Your eyes did not suddenly improve. Rather what changed was an external illumination. Now you see what was always there in the room. Regeneration is like the light coming on. Repentance is seeing the mess clearly. Faith is reaching for what is beautiful and trustworthy in the room. The seeing does not cause the light; the light causes the seeing.
Next in the order of salvation, we understand the bible to say that through faith, we are justified. This means God declares us righteous, not because we have become righteous in ourselves, but because Christ’s righteousness is credited to us. Then we are adopted into God’s family. We are not merely forgiven criminals; we are welcomed as sons and daughters.
Why does this order matter for assurance? Because if salvation begins with God’s action, then assurance begins with trusting God’s promise. If our new birth originated in His sovereign mercy rather than our fragile will, then our security rests in His faithfulness rather than our memory.
When believers doubt, the question is often framed this way: “Did I really mean it back then?” But Scripture reframes the issue: “Has God given you new life?” That shift is not meant to drive us into inward obsession, but rather to drive us outward into trust in God. If God is the author of life, then he is also the only one able to sustain it.
The Marks of Genuine Conversion
At this point, a careful reader may ask, “How can I know if regeneration has truly occurred?” That is not an unhealthy question; in fact, it is the right one. Scripture itself invites self-examination. But we must approach this carefully, because there is a way to examine ourselves that strengthens assurance, and another that destroys it.
The Bible gives us certain marks of genuine conversion, but do not hear these as a checklist, which will only produce anxiety, rather view these marks as signs of real spiritual life. As John says in his first epistle: “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, that you may know that you have eternal life” (1 John 5:13). In other words, John is saying, “I am writing so that you may have assurance.” He is not pointing believers to remember a moment they once experienced, but to look at the present evidence of eternal life at work within them, the life that flows from being born of God.
One sign of true conversion is a new posture toward sin. The believer still sins; we need to say that clearly. Regeneration does not produce instant perfection, but it does produce a new relationship to sin. What was once defended or excused is now confessed. What was once enjoyed without grief now produces conviction. The Spirit produces sorrow where there once was indifference. There will be struggle, sometimes intense struggle, but there is no longer comfortable surrender to sin, but fight against it.
Second, there is a new affection for Christ. Before conversion, Christ may have been admired, respected, or culturally affirmed as a means of escaping Hell. Yet, after a new birth, he becomes more than a means to an end; he becomes a precious treasure. He is no longer merely useful for securing heaven; he is treasured as Lord and Savior. The heart begins to say, not merely “What must I do to escape judgment?” but “Whom have I in heaven but You?”
Third, there is a new love for God’s people. First John is especially clear on this point. Those born of God or truly regenerate love the brothers, that is the church. Fellowship with believers may still be imperfect and sometimes frustrating, but it becomes meaningful. Isolation no longer feels like an option or something that I can remain neutral about. There is a Spirit-produce pull toward being with the people of God.
Fourth, there is a new desire to obey. Again, this does mean perfection, or without missteps, but the desire to follow God’s commandments is sincere. The commands of God begin to look less like threats and more like invitations into life. Obedience is no longer merely about external compliance; it becomes an expression of our love for God. The key phrase, as I said before, here is this: direction, not perfection.
The question is not, “Am I sinless?” but “Am I different?” This does not mean, “Have I eliminated all struggle?” rather, “Has my struggle changed?” People should be able to see a movement toward Christ; see repentance when I fall; and a growing awareness that I cannot live apart from Him or His people.
Where there is life, there will be signs of life. They may be small at times and develop slowly. But they will always exist.
The Danger of Counterfeits
At the same time, Scripture lovingly warns us that not every profession of salvation is possession of new birth. And we must speak about this carefully, especially in places where Christian language is common.
Emotional experiences that seem like regeneration can occur without true repentance. A person may feel deeply stirred in a service, moved by music, affected by a sermon, even weep, yet never truly surrender or truly submit to the Lord. Emotions are not evil. In fact, they often accompany real conversion, but emotion alone is not proof of new birth.
There can also be intellectual agreement without submission. A person may affirm correct doctrine, articulate the gospel clearly, and even defend orthodox positions; however, they never entrust themselves fully to Christ. Knowledge about Christ is not the same as union with Christ.
And especially in regions saturated with church culture, there can be a higher concentration of cultural Christianity. One grows up around church, knows the vocabulary, remembers a prayer prayed at a young age, and assumes everything is settled. Despite this, there has been little evidence of repentance, love for Christ, or desire for obedience. In such environments, assurance can quietly attach itself to familiarity rather than faith.
But I want to say this clearly: the goal in these environments and situations is not accusation. It is shepherding. The warnings of Scripture are not aimed at tender believers who grieve their sin and cling to Christ, even weakly. They are aimed at those who have a comfortable presumption. The person who worries that they may not love Christ enough often reveals that they do, in fact, love Him. The person unmoved by sin and uninterested in obedience is the one in greater danger. True pastoral care does not flatten these differences. It comforts the trembling and awakens the complacent.
Conversion as the Beginning of a Lifelong Pattern
Finally, we must understand that conversion is not the end of the story; it is the beginning. New birth introduces a lifelong pattern. The Christian life is not static. There are seasons of growth and seasons of dryness, but where the Spirit has truly given life, he continues to work. This means true fruit matures over time. An oak tree does not appear overnight. But if there is life in the root, growth will follow. Sometimes slowly, but it will steadily grow.
What we need to understand is that assurance grows the same way. It deepens as we see God’s faithfulness over the years. It strengthens as we experience His discipline and restoration. It matures as repentance becomes quicker and obedience becomes sweeter. And the Spirit himself testifies to this reality. Paul tells us that the Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God. This testimony is not usually a dramatic voice from heaven. It is the quiet, steady work of producing conviction, comfort, longing for holiness, and love for Christ.
This is why assurance cannot be reduced to a moment. It lives in a relationship with the same Spirit who gave life by sustaining life. The same Christ who justified continues to intercede. The same Father, who adopted us, continues to discipline and protect. So when we ask about assurance, we must look not only backward but also forward. And here is the great comfort: what God truly makes alive, He sustains. What is born of the Spirit endures because the Spirit does not abandon His work.
In the next article, we will consider how this truth unfolds in perseverance. If regeneration explains the beginning of the Christian life, perseverance explains its continuation. The God who gives life also keeps his people. And the warnings, exhortations, and means of grace that Scripture provides are not threats to assurance but instruments of preservation.
But before we move there, we must rest here: salvation is not ultimately the story of our decision to live for God. It is the story of God’s decision to make us alive. And that is far stronger ground for assurance than any memory we could cling to.
As discussed in the opening article on this topic, many churches have missed the mark when it comes to offering assurance. Not because they want to deny believers comfort, but rather, wanting to provide real assurance, they have unknowingly grounded it in the wrong place. In an effort to give clarity and confidence to those who profess faith in Jesus, the church has emphasized external realities: a prayer prayed, a decision made, a moment remembered, rather than the finished work of Christ which is received and enjoyed by faith. Tragically, this misplacement of foundation has led many from peace and into confusion and uncertainty, even in some cases into a completely false sense of assurance.
In the previous article, we saw that biblical assurance calls us away from self and toward Christ. It cultivates humility under Spirit-wrought grace, and is nourished within the loving instruction of the local church. Our great Triune God delights to grant His children confidence, but He does so by fixing our gaze on His accomplishments, not our own. If that is true, and Scripture insists that it is, where else can we go to strengthen this doctrine of assurance? There is no better place than the beginning of the Christian life. Not the beginning of time, but the beginning of salvation as it is experienced personally, that is in conversion.
As a pastor ministering in what is often called the Bible Belt of the United States, I regularly engage with people who confidently identify as Christians. When I ask why they believe they are Christians, I hear the same response with striking consistency. At least seventy percent of the time, the answer sounds something like, “I asked Jesus into my heart years ago, and once saved always saved… right?”
This response shows that the way we frame conversion profoundly shapes the way believers understand assurance. Without even realizing it, many believers are grounding their assurance not in Christ Himself, but in a moment, and often in a prayer they uttered years or even decades ago. To be clear, this does not mean that God does not save through prayer because Scripture is explicit that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Rom. 10:13). Rather, prayer is an expression of faith, not the grounds of salvation, nor the proof of it.
With this framework, we can address what is commonly referred to as the Sinner’s Prayer and a movement called decisionalism.
How Decisionalism Reshaped Assurance
The concept of the Sinner’s Prayer, as it is used today, largely entered the modern evangelical imagination through nineteenth-century revivalism, particularly under the influence of Charles Finney. Finney famously redefined conversion as a decisive human act, or something that could be produced through the particular methods, like the anxious bench, public altar calls, or immediate appeals for a visible response. This approach to conversion gave rise to what is often called decisionalism, which is the belief that evangelism’s primary goal is to secure a personal human decision, often expressed through a prayer, raised hand, or walk down an aisle.
In doing this, decisionalism relocates conversion from God’s saving action received by faith to a moment of human choice. Thus, in practice, it also relocates assurance, from Christ to a memory, from faith to a prayer, from divine grace to a human act. Well-meaning statements like “once saved, always saved” are offered to reassure, but without realizing it, these simple phrases have already shifted the focus of assurance. It is no longer anchored in Christ’s finished work and present intercession, but in a recollection: I prayed, I decided, I responded.
Again, God does truly save sinners who call upon Him. But the fact that many people pray the Sinner’s Prayer repeatedly throughout their lives, wondering if they ‘meant it’ more sincerely this time than before, should alert us to a deeper problem. The issue is not prayer, but on understanding where assurance is being given and grounded. The goal of these articles is not to point fingers or highlight mistakes, but rather to compassionately explore ways to provide biblical assurance to those within our churches.
The Danger of Grounding Assurance in Past Decisions
The problem with shifting assurance from the finished work of Christ to a momentary decision, as decisionalism does, is that faith quietly becomes about a single point in the past rather than a living, ongoing reliance on Christ. Before even realizing it, faith becomes something to be remembered or looked back to rather than something to be exercised daily even after conversion. Instead of trusting a present Savior, believers are trained to trust a past moment: when I prayed, when I decided, when I responded.
Scripture consistently draws us away from our memories and back to Christ Himself, both in conversion and afterward. “He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them” (Heb. 7:25). Our confidence is not maintained by the sincerity of our decision, but by the faithfulness of Christ. As John Calvin so clearly states, faith is “a firm and sure knowledge of God’s favor toward us, founded on the truth of a free promise in Christ.” That promise rests on Christ’s completed work and ongoing intercession, not on our ability to recall, defend, or emotionally relive a moment in the past.
When assurance is tied primarily to a past decision, faith easily becomes something that happened once rather than something that continually clings to Christ. Yet Scripture describes saving faith as enduring and abiding. “We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end” (Heb. 3:14). This does not mean that believers are kept by the strength of their grip on Christ, but by Christ’s grip on them. True faith is not merely how we enter the Christian life; it is how we daily live the Christian life, looking again and again to Christ’s promise, especially in seasons of weakness, doubt, and struggle.
Obedience as Fruit, Not Option
What is going on beneath those familiar phrases—“You don’t want to go to hell, do you?” or “Wouldn’t you rather go to heaven?” It is not a message of urgency, rather it is a subtle narrowing of what the gospel is for. When decision-making methods dominate our evangelism and discipleship, faith can quietly shrink into a transaction: say the right words, make the right choice, and secure the right outcome. Heaven becomes the prize to be obtained, hell the threat to be feared, and Christ, the means to an end of just self-preservation. The tragedy is not that heaven and hell are unimportant; they are eternally weighty, but that the Christian life becomes detached from a living, present communion with Christ Himself.
When assurance is anchored primarily in a past decision rather than in a present and ongoing union with Christ, obedience can feel like a pressure rather than a pleasure. God’s commands become a duty more than a delight. But Scripture consistently reverses that logic. Jesus does not say, “Try hard to produce fruit so you can prove you belong to me,” but, “Abide in me, and I in you” (John 15:4–5). Spiritual life precedes the fruit of obedience, which means union with Christ precedes obedience. Fruit does not create life, but where there is real life, fruit inevitably follows. That is why the New Testament can proclaim salvation by grace alone with full empathic force, while simultaneously insisting that grace is never inert or barren. As Paul puts it, “The grace of God has appeared… training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions” (Titus 2:11–12). Grace saves a person, and then that same grace shapes the person.
Here, John Owen offers crucial clarity. Owen insists that saving faith does more than receive pardon; it “approves of God’s way of saving sinners.” That is, true faith does not merely want the benefits Christ gives, but embraces the manner in which Christ gives them, namely, through His lordship, His holiness, and His transforming reign. Christ is not received in pieces. He is trusted as Savior from guilt and submitted to as Lord over a person’s life.
This is why faith, in Owen’s vision, is not a one-time act frozen in the past, but a living, ongoing posture of the soul. Not because the endurance of faith earns salvation, but because the object of faith, Christ Himself, is faithful. Faith perseveres precisely because Christ perseveres in holding His people. Assurance, then, is not found in looking backward to the intensity of a moment, but upward and forward to the sufficiency and steadfastness of the Savior who continues His work in us.
Repentance as Confirmation, Not Contradiction
This is why repentance and growth do not threaten assurance—they clarify it. Ongoing repentance is not evidence that grace is fragile or incomplete; it is evidence that grace is alive and active. Where grace truly takes root, it keeps pressing into the heart, exposing sin, softening resistance, and drawing us back to Christ. Scripture’s warnings are not aimed at tender consciences that grieve their sin, but at a confidence that claims Christ while remaining unaffected by a relationship with Him. “By this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments” (1 John 2:3–4). As a friend says, the issue is not perfection, but direction.
This is exactly the balance John Calvin articulates so memorably when he says that Christ “justifies no one whom He does not also sanctify.” Justification and sanctification are distinct, but they are never divided. Christ does not merely remove guilt and leave us unchanged; He always renews what He has redeemed. Obedience, then, is not the ground of our assurance, but one of its God-given confirmations. Amen and hallelujah.
Seen this way, the Christian life is not a cycle of insecurities marked by rededications and praying the same prayer again, as though salvation must be repeatedly re-secured every time we stumble. Rather, it is a steady rhythm of returning, again and again, to the same Christ, by faith and repentance. Yes, there are seasons of spiritual vibrancy and seasons of felt weakness. There are days of clarity and days of struggle. But assurance is not sustained by constantly asking, “Did I really believe back then?” The more searching question is quieter and steadier: “Do I believe now?”—and even that question is answered not by introspection alone, but by looking to Christ.
We do not obey in order to remain saved; we obey because we are already united to a living Savior who is actively at work within us. True assurance does not rest on what we once did for God in a decisive moment, but on what Christ has done, and praise God, what He continues to do, by His grace, through His Spirit, until the day He finishes the work He began.
When assurance is mislocated, the consequences are predictable. The anxious believer spirals into endless self-interrogation about sincerity. The complacent believer grows confident without repentance or obedience. The drifting believer detaches from Christ and the church without feeling any urgency. And the church itself struggles to issue biblical warnings without being accused of denying assurance.
These are not first moral failures; they are theological distortions. When assurance is grounded in memory rather than in Christ, it will either collapse into fear or harden into presumption.
Reframing the Question of Assurance
This brings us to the question that must be corrected. The wrong question is: “Did I pray sincerely at some point?”
The correct biblical question is: “Am I now resting in Christ who continues to hold me?”
Faith is not a door entered once and left behind. Faith is a posture sustained by grace. Assurance of that faith is grounded in Christ’s finished work, sustained by God’s ongoing grace, and expressed through persevering faith. This reframing does not mean believers must live in constant doubt. It does not mean salvation is earned by perseverance. It does not mean conversion must be dramatic or emotionally intense. What it does mean is that assurance grows in a relationship, not through remembering. And it means that God preserves His people through means: His Word, His church, His Spirit, and not through memories.
Setting the Stage for What Comes Next
A prayer-centered or decision-centered assurance, however well-intended, can produce either fear or presumption. But the gospel offers something better. It calls us to rest not in a moment we can remember, but in a Savior who lives, reigns, and intercedes. Understand this, assurance is not fragile because Christ is not fragile.
As we move forward, the goal is not to weaken assurance but to strengthen it by rooting it more deeply in Christ. This means we need to understand how God preserves His people, and to see how perseverance, warnings, and the means of grace function not as threats, but as gifts of divine love.
I am a product of a wonderful family who genuinely loved the Lord and His people. I grew up in a home where the gospel was not a stranger but a steady presence. My father served as a pastor for most of the years I lived under my parents’ care, and church life was woven naturally into the rhythms of our family. Scripture was read, prayer was normal, and the name of Christ was spoken with reverence and affection. I cannot remember a time when I did not know about Jesus.
I also remember praying to receive Christ at a young age. It was sincere as far as I understood it then, and it was encouraged by those who loved me. Yet if someone were to examine my life from my teenage years through college, they likely would have used words like backslidden or lost his way. And they would not have been wrong. While I maintained a measure of outward morality, my heart increasingly loved the world and my sin more than it loved God and His ways. Christ was familiar, but He was not precious. Faith was assumed, but obedience was optional. I had confidence without submission, but mostly assurance without any real affection for God
In hindsight, I can see that what I possessed during those years was not biblical assurance but a form of false security, one that allowed me to feel safe while drifting far from the Lord. I had been given a category for assurance, but it wasn’t well-formed. I knew when I prayed, what I affirmed, and where I belonged socially, but I did not understand how assurance relates to repentance, perseverance, love for God, and life in the body of Christ.
In the kindness of God, He did not leave me there. He reached down and plucked me from a path of self-deceived destruction and called me—truly and effectually—to Himself. By His grace, He made me alive. What followed was not perfection, but a real change: a growing love for God, a growing hatred of sin, and an increasing desire to walk in His ways. Since that time, I can honestly say I have sought to follow the Lord daily, not because I fear losing Him with every misstep, but because I love Him and want my life to reflect His grace.
As I have grown in my understanding of Scripture, theology, and pastoral ministry over the past decade, several sobering realities have become increasingly clear to me. Chief among them is this: many churches have missed the mark in how they teach and apply the doctrine of assurance. In an effort to comfort, we have sometimes offered certainty where Scripture calls for examination. In a desire to emphasize grace, we have occasionally untethered assurance from repentance, obedience, and perseverance. The result has been tragic for many, of what I will call “casualties of the church.” These are for those with false hope who do not truly love the Lord, and for those with deep confusion who do.
This is not merely an academic concern. I have sat with anxious believers who fear they have lost salvation every time they sin. I have counseled professing Christians who live comfortably in disobedience yet feel no urgency to repent because they are “sure they’re saved.” I have watched people detach themselves from the local church while claiming deep confidence in Christ, unaware that Scripture ties assurance to abiding faith and communal perseverance.
It is out of both personal experience and pastoral responsibility that I have decided to write a series of articles on the doctrine of assurance. My aim is not to unsettle tender consciences nor to strip believers of gospel confidence. Rather, it is to recover a biblical, Christ-centered, pastorally wise understanding of assurance, one that offers real comfort to struggling saints, real warnings to the self-deceived, and real hope that endures because it is grounded in Christ, sustained by grace, and nurtured within the life of the church.
You see, if assurance is misunderstood, it can quietly undermine the Christian life. But when it is rightly taught, it becomes a powerful means of stability, humility, perseverance, and abounding joy. That is the doctrine of assurance worth recovering and worth getting right. Few doctrines shape the Christian life as profoundly as the doctrine of assurance. Assurance determines how believers pray, obey, suffer, repent, and persevere. When assurance is weak or distorted, the Christian life becomes either anxious and brittle or careless and hollow. When assurance is rightly grounded, believers learn to walk with God in humble confidence, meaning they are neither crushed by fear nor puffed up by presumption.
At its heart, assurance answers a deeply human question: How may I know that I belong to God?
Scripture does not dismiss this question as illegitimate, nor does it answer it simplistically. Instead, the Bible addresses assurance through promises, warnings, commands, ordinaces and the life of the church. The history of Christian theology reflects this same complexity. You see, for centuries, faithful teachers have sought to articulate assurance in a way that preserves God’s grace, guards against self-deception, and comforts trembling consciences.
In as brief a manner as possible, this article argues that a faithful doctrine of assurance must be Christ-centered, Spirit-enabled, hope-shaped, and church-nurtured. To make that case, we will draw together four major theological voices: Athanasius, Augustine, Aquinas, and Luther. These men lived from the 3rd to the 16th centuries and are not competing systems, but complementary witnesses who help the church speak about assurance with biblical depth and pastoral wisdom.
Assurance Begins with Christ, Not the Self
One of the most damaging mistakes in modern Christianity is the tendency to locate assurance primarily in the believer’s inner life. I remember being told and hearing others told to write the date I prayed to receive Christ or was baptized in the front of my Bible. The reasoning was well-intended: there will come a day when Satan tries to convince you that you are not a believer, and when that happens, you can look at that date and be reassured. The goal was comfort. The effect, however, was often confusion.
Christians are frequently taught, either implicitly or explicitly, to search their feelings, memories, or moral progress for confirmation that they truly belong to God. In doing so, assurance becomes tethered to a moment remembered, an experience recalled, or a pattern evaluated. While Scripture certainly speaks about fruit, growth, and transformation, it never presents self-examination as the foundation of assurance. Those realities serve as confirmation, not as the ground on which confidence rests.
Here is where we must begin by seeing that the foundation of assurance lies outside the believer, not in a date written in a Bible, nor in the strength of one’s resolve, but in the finished work of Christ. When assurance is rooted primarily in the self, it inevitably rises and falls with memory, emotion, and performance. When it is rooted in Christ, it is anchored in something far more stable: what God has done, once and for all, in His Son.
This is where Athanasius’s theology provides an essential starting point. In his defense of the incarnation, Athanasius insists that the Son of God did not merely make salvation possible but actually accomplished it. Christ enters into human nature, takes on death, and defeats corruption from within humanity itself. Salvation is not first an experience to be felt but another’s victory to be received. The believer’s confidence begins not with the question, “Am I strong enough?” but with the declaration, “Christ has conquered death.”[1]
This Christ-first logic is deeply biblical. The New Testament consistently grounds assurance in what God has done in Christ before it ever turns to what God is doing in us.[2] The cross is proclaimed as an accomplished and finished fact.[3] The resurrection is announced as a real and objective event.[4] Union with Christ is presented as a real participation in His life, death, and resurrection.[5] Assurance, therefore, is not generated by inward certainty but by outward proclamation.[6] The gospel tells us who Christ is and what He has done, and faith rests there.[7]
When assurance begins with Christ, it is immediately stabilized as an anchor of certainty because it is anchored to God Himself. The believer is freed from the exhausting task of trying to measure the sincerity of their faith or the purity of their motives. Instead, assurance flows from trusting that Christ is sufficient, victorious, and faithful. This does not eliminate self-examination, but it puts it in its proper place, downstream from the gospel, not upstream from it.
Assurance Must Be Held Humbly Under Grace
If Athanasius guards assurance from becoming overly focused on the self, Augustine guards it from becoming arrogance in one’s own ability to endure. Augustine’s theology of grace and perseverance arose from a pastoral concern: many professing believers claimed confidence in salvation while living in unrepentant sin. Others, deeply aware of their weakness, were crushed by fear that they might fall away. Augustine sought to uphold both God’s sovereign grace and the believer’s need for humility.
For Augustine, salvation is entirely the work of God from beginning to end. His biggest contribution is that he taught grace initiates faith, sustains obedience, and secures perseverance. Because perseverance itself is a gift, believers cannot claim salvation as a possession they control. This means that assurance, while real, must always be accompanied by dependence. Confidence in God must never become confidence in the self.[8]
This perspective explains Augustine’s careful use of language, something that I am all too afraid we are not doing in today’s world. He does not deny that believers can have confidence in God’s promises, but he resists claims to what he calls “infallible self-knowledge.” The believer’s security rests in God’s faithfulness, not in their own endurance. Assurance, therefore, is compatible with humility, watchfulness, and prayer. The Christian walks forward trusting God while continually asking for more and more sustaining grace.
Biblically, this posture is reflected in the New Testament’s combination of assurance and warning. Believers are told that nothing can separate them from the love of God, yet they are also exhorted to persevere, to examine themselves, and to take care lest they fall.[9] Augustine helps us see that these warnings are not contradictions but actually instruments of grace. God preserves His people not by removing exhortations but by using them to produce the very thing He requires.
A doctrine of assurance that ignores this dimension will either produce one of two great errors: complacency or despair. Augustine teaches the church to speak about assurance in a way that comforts the faithful without dulling the seriousness of real discipleship.
Assurance as Certain Hope, Not Infallible Knowledge
While Augustine clarifies the posture of assurance, Aquinas provides the conceptual tools to explain how assurance can be both confident and non-presuming. Aquinas finds the doctrine of assurance within the theological virtue of hope. Hope, for him, is not a vague optimism or emotional uplift. It is a stable habit of the will by which the believer confidently leans on God to attain eternal life.[10]
This framing is crucial. By defining assurance as hope, Aquinas places it in the realm of trust rather than self-certainty. Hope looks forward to a future good that is difficult but possible by God’s help. The believer does not claim to possess salvation fully, but confidently expects it because God is faithful. Assurance, therefore, is not the certainty of having arrived, but the certainty of being led to an end, which is secured.
Aquinas introduces a necessary distinction between two kinds of certainty. Intellectual certainty belongs to the realm of knowledge; it concerns what is known directly and infallibly. Hope does not operate in this way. Instead, hope possesses what Aquinas calls “certainty by participation.” It shares in the certainty of faith, which knows who God is and what He promises. Because God is omnipotent and merciful, hope is secure—even if the believer lacks perfect insight into their own spiritual condition.
Many today describe this biblical tension as the “already–not yet” nature of the kingdom—the kingdom is certain, yet not fully consummated. Aquinas is especially helpful here, because this same tension shapes the nature of Christian hope. This distinction allows him to affirm genuine assurance without collapsing into introspective obsession. The believer’s confidence does not rest on carefully measuring grace already received, but on trusting God’s ongoing mercy and promised future grace. Even a clear awareness of remaining sin does not destroy hope, because hope is anchored in God’s ability to give grace, forgive sin, and faithfully complete the work He has begun.
Pastorally, this is enormously helpful. Aquinas gives the church language to say, “You may truly trust God without claiming certainty about yourself.” Hope stabilizes assurance by directing the believer outward—toward God’s power and promise—rather than inward toward fluctuating emotions or moral performance.
Assurance Through the External Promise of the Gospel
If Aquinas explains how assurance can be certain without being presumptuous, Luther explains where the trembling conscience actually finds rest. Luther’s great pastoral insight is that assurance must be grounded in the external word of the gospel, not in inner experience. The conscience, when turned inward, finds only sin, weakness, and inconsistency. Peace comes only when faith clings to Christ “for you.”
For Luther, assurance flows directly from justification by faith alone. To be justified is not merely to be made acceptable, but to be declared righteous on the basis of Christ’s work. This declaration is factual, public, and external. The believer does not create it; they receive it. Assurance, therefore, arises from hearing and believing the promise of God.
Luther is especially attentive to the pastoral dangers of misplaced assurance. When believers look to their own faith as the ground of confidence, faith itself becomes a work. When they look to obedience as the basis of peace, obedience becomes a burden rather than a gift. Luther relentlessly redirects the believer back to Christ as the only foundation.[11]
This does not mean that works are irrelevant, for Luther affirms that faith inevitably produces love and obedience. But these fruits serve as confirmation, not as a foundation. They are signs of life, not its source. Assurance is preserved by continually returning to the promise: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ is for you.
Biblically, this approach aligns with the apostolic pattern. The New Testament repeatedly calls believers to remember, to hear again, to hold fast to the word preached. Assurance grows not through reflection alone, but through repeated exposure to the gospel in Word and ordinance.[12]
A Coherent Biblical Vision of Assurance
When these four perspectives are held together, a coherent and deeply biblical vision of assurance emerges. Assurance begins with Christ’s finished work, is sustained by God’s gracious perseverance, is experienced as confident hope, and is nourished through the external proclamation of the gospel. It is neither self-generated nor self-secured. It is a gift that grows within the life of faith.
Biblically, assurance is never presented as a static possession. It is dynamic, relational, and covenantal. Believers are called to rest and to strive, to rejoice and to fear, to trust and to examine themselves. These tensions are not contradictions but marks of life in Christ. Assurance matures as believers learn to hold promises and warnings together, trusting that God uses both for their good.
This vision also guards against common pastoral errors. It prevents anxiety by grounding assurance in Christ rather than performance. It resists presumption by insisting that true hope expresses itself in perseverance. It avoids isolation by locating assurance within the life of the church, where faith is confessed, nourished, and corrected.
True assurance is neither fragile nor arrogant. It is strong because it rests on Christ, and humble because it depends on grace. It does not eliminate struggle, but it gives meaning to it. It does not silence warnings, but it hears them as the voice of a faithful Father.
In a world of anxiety, moralism, and spiritual isolation, the church must recover a doctrine of assurance that is biblically rooted, Christ-exalting, and pastorally wise. Such assurance does not promise ease, but it does promise hope. And that hope, anchored in Christ, is strong enough to carry believers all the way home.
[1] Athanasius, On the Incarnation of the Word, §§9–10, 22–25, in Athanasius: On the Incarnation, trans. and ed. by a Religious of C.S.M.V. (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1998).
[2]Romans 5:8–10; 2 Corinthians 5:18–21; Ephesians 1:3–7 (Assurance grounded in God’s prior, objective action in Christ)
[3]John 19:30; Hebrews 10:10–14; 1 Peter 3:18 (“It is finished”; the once-for-all nature of Christ’s atoning work)
[4]1 Corinthians 15:3–8, 17–20; Acts 2:32–36; Romans 4:24–25 (The resurrection as historical, public, and essential for assurance)
[5]Romans 6:3–5; Galatians 2:20; Colossians 2:12–13; 3:1–4 (Union with Christ as participation in His death and resurrection)
[6]Romans 10:8–17; 2 Corinthians 4:5–6; 1 Thessalonians 1:4–5 (Assurance arising from gospel proclamation, not inward analysis)
[7]1 John 5:11–13; John 20:30–31; Hebrews 12:2 (Faith resting on the testimony God has given concerning His Son)
[8] Augustine of Hippo, On the Gift of Perseverance and On Rebuke and Grace, written during the later phase of the Pelagian controversy (ca. AD 426–427), in which Augustine articulates perseverance unto the end as a distinct gift of divine grace and defends rebuke, exhortation, and prayer as ordained means through which God preserves the elect in faith.
[9]Romans 8:35–39 (inseparability from God’s love); John 10:27–29 (Christ’s preserving hand); Hebrews 3:12–14 (exhortation to persevere); 2 Corinthians 13:5 (call to self-examination); 1 Corinthians 10:12; Hebrews 4:1; 10:26–29 (warnings against falling away).
[10] Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II–II, qq. 17–18, trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1947).
[11] Martin Luther, Preface to the Epistle to the Romans (1522) and The Freedom of a Christian (1520), in Luther’s Works, vol. 35, Word and Sacrament I, ed. E. Theodore Bachmann (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1960), esp. on faith as living trust, justification by faith alone, and Christian freedom grounded in union with Christ.
[12]Romans 10:14–17 (faith nourished through hearing the preached word); 1 Corinthians 11:23–26 (the Lord’s Supper as proclamation and remembrance); 2 Peter 1:12–15 (reminding believers of truths they already know); Hebrews 3:12–14; 10:22–25 (holding fast through exhortation and corporate worship); Colossians 3:16 (the word of Christ dwelling richly among the gathered people).
Every generation of Christians must learn again how to listen for God without confusing His voice with their own. We live in a time where many thoughts/desires are clothed in spiritual language, such as “God told me,” “I felt led,” “the Spirit impressed this on my heart,” yet we are deeply uncertain about how God actually guides His people according to Scripture. This confusion is not a mark of spiritual negligence, but a clue that we need to be re-taught, patiently and biblically, by the God who actually does delight to lead His children in truth. Again, as we have already said, some believers move impulsively, baptizing strong feelings as divine direction. Others retreat into fear, distrusting every inner desire lest they mishear God. Still others reduce the Christian life to bare methods, quietly assuming that God no longer meaningfully guides His people. This final article exists because it seems many are headed toward an unsafe understanding of how to discern the voice of God, when there is a better, more biblical method. This is a longer article, but hopefully well worth your time.
The Two Books Series of Articles began by reestablishing the basic grammar of Christian discernment. We know God has written two books; they are not two competing revelations, but two harmonizing works by one Author. Scripture is God’s clear, Spirit-inspired Word, which reveals His character, purposes, and saving work in Christ. Providence is God’s ongoing governance of the world, meaning His sovereign hand at work in history and in our lives. But remember Scripture always interprets providence, not the other way around. We do not read God’s world to discover His will apart from His Word; we read God’s world through the Word He has already given.
In From Prophets to Pilgrims, we explored why believers today cannot read providence the way biblical prophets did. Joseph could say, “God meant it for good.” Elijah could announce droughts and rains. Paul could interpret imprisonment as gospel advance. Yet, they did so not because they were spiritually perceptive, but because they were Spirit-inspired. Their interpretations carried divine authority and actually became Scripture, God’s own explanation of His providence. We need to know our interpretation of providence is not the same. We are not prophets deciphering secrets; instead, we are pilgrims trusting God’s promises. God still rules history, but He teaches us to interpret His works through His written Word, while illumined by the Spirit, not through private revelation or circumstantial guesswork.
The Spirit and Our Decisions then turned from history to daily life. If binding, God-breathed revelation[1] on par with Scripture has ceased, how does the Spirit guide believers in ordinary choices where Scripture gives no explicit command? The answer was not mystical certainty or hidden blueprints, but Scripture-shaped wisdom. The Spirit illumines the Word, renews our minds, forms character, and leads the believers through prayer, counsel, sanctified desire, and obedient judgment. God’s will is not a tightrope to be balanced on but a vast field fenced in by Scripture, within which believers are free to act wisely and faithfully.
In From Daily Wisdom to Life-Shaping Decisions, we addressed the moments that feel weightier, like jobs, moves, marriage, ministry, and major transitions. There, too, Scripture does not promise some secret knowledge, but sufficient light. Know that God’s sovereign will cannot be missed, and His moral will is not hidden. Yet, His wisdom must be known and practiced. We learned that the greatest danger in decision-making is not choosing the wrong option, but choosing with the wrong heart—pride, fear, lust, bitterness, or impatience masquerading as spiritual insight.
And yet, even after all of that groundwork, one question remains unavoidable: What about inner impulses?
What do we do with the sudden desires to act, or the persistent thoughts that will not leave us? What does it mean when strong feelings of peace or unrest settle over us? You know those moments when something seems “right” or “wrong” before we can fully explain why? Are these promptings from the Holy Spirit, the echoes of conscience, or simply the noise of a restless heart? Can the Spirit move us inwardly without giving new revelation? And if so, how do we discern those movements without sliding into a form of mysticism, manipulation, or fear?
This final article is necessary not to diminish the Spirit’s work, but to clarify it. You see Scripture holds together two truths we often try to pull apart: the Spirit truly dwells in believers, and the human heart remains profoundly fallible.
The Spirit does lead, but never apart from the Word He inspired. Certainly, inner impulses are real, but they are not authoritative. These impulses must be weighed, tested, and understood within the wise, Christ-centered framework God has given.
The goal here is neither to silence the inner life nor to enthrone it. The aim is to help believers—myself included—walk honestly and obediently before God. We must learn to notice our desires. We have to stay alert to temptation. We undoubtedly need to remain open to conviction. But above all, it is necessary that we stay anchored in Scripture.
To work through this, we will listen carefully to voices from church history, learning from the strengths of experiential traditions without repeating their excesses. We will also draw deeply from Puritan and Reformed wisdom throughout the ages. Doing all this, we must always be brought back to Christ Himself. Jesus is not merely the example of discernment; He is its center. United to Him, justified by grace, indwelt by the Spirit, and instructed by the Word, believers are not left to navigate life by guesswork or inner chaos. We are shepherded by a faithful Savior who leads His people by truth, wisdom, and love.
Inner Impulses Examined: Biblical Reality and Historical Caution
Before inner impulses can be evaluated, they must be acknowledged. Scripture does not portray believers as purely rational actors (think minds on a stick[2]), nor does it flatten our inner lives into moral neutrality. The Bible speaks often of desires, affections, convictions, promptings, fears, and inclinations. The Psalmists pour out the unrest of their souls in a variety of ways. Paul describes competing desires within himself. The prophets speak of hearts stirred, hardened, or pierced. To deny the inner life is not biblical piety; it is to reduce a rich, complex reality into something simpler than Scripture presents. And yet, Scripture is equally clear that the inner life is never a reliable guide by itself. The same heart that can be stirred toward obedience can just as easily be stirred toward self-deception[3].
It is this tension—between real inward movement and real inward fallibility—that creates the problem we must face honestly. If the Spirit truly indwells believers, does He stir the heart, shape desires, and move us toward obedience? And if He does, how do those movements differ from a person’s conscience, emotion, imagination, temptation, or even one’s sanctified desire? Scripture answers this question not by giving us a matrix of feelings, but by placing inner impulses under the authority of God’s revealed Word.
The New Testament repeatedly grounds discernment not in inward impressions, but in renewed minds shaped by Scripture. Paul, in Romans 12, exhorts believers to be transformed by the renewal of the mind so that they may test and discern what is pleasing to God. The Spirit’s work is not described as something that bypasses thought, but as reforming it. Even when Paul speaks of being “led by the Spirit,” he explains that this is a life shaped by holiness and growth in Christ, not by private impressions or sudden internal instructions. One of the Spirit’s primary roles is to empower us to bear fruit, not to issue secret commands.
This is precisely where historical confusion has often entered the church. Throughout Christian history, periods of spiritual vibrancy (think revival or the Great Awakening) have frequently been accompanied by an elevation of inner experience. When carefully governed, such attention to the inner life has produced humility, repentance, and holiness. Yet, when left ungoverned, it has produced fanaticism, anxiety, and manipulation. The problem has never been the experience itself, but the authority others grant it.
Ignatius of Loyola, a 15th- and 16th-century priest, represents one of the most careful and influential attempts to systematize inner discernment. His Rules for Discernment acknowledge that inner movements can arise from different sources, including God, the self, or the enemy, and therefore must be tested[4]. In this, Ignatius shows remarkable sensitivity. He understands that spiritual experiences can mislead, that both consolation and desolation (as Ignatius calls them) affect judgment. He notes that decisions made under emotional pressure are often unwise. Many of his warnings are wisdom the church would do well to recover.
And yet, Ignatius gives inner feelings more weight than Scripture does. In his approach, certain experiences can begin to function like direct guidance from God. Even though he urges caution, he still assumes that God often directs people through strong inner feelings. This danger is subtle but serious. What begins as spiritual insight can quietly turn into treating feelings as God’s voice. And even for those who have never read Ignatius, this same tendency is common. We are all tempted to give our impulses an authority God never intended them to have.
The nineteenth-century holiness and revivalist movements intensified this tendency. Eager to affirm the immediacy of God’s presence and the transforming power of the Spirit, these movements often treated inner impressions as reliable indicators of God’s will. Things like strong feelings of peace, urgency, or certainty were interpreted as divine signals[5]. At this time, decisionalism flourished, sometimes at the expense of patient wisdom or long obedience. As many others have noted, intense spiritual experiences often moved faster than careful biblical thinking. What started as a sincere desire for holiness sometimes drifted into emotional excess, rule-keeping, and even spiritual anxiety when those impulses waned.
The Puritans and later Reformed theologians responded to these tendencies not by suppressing the inner life, but by disciplining it. They spoke extensively about affections, conscience, and desires, but always under the governance of Scripture. For them, the Spirit’s work was never to give a new direction apart from the Word, but to apply the Word deeply to the heart. John Owen warned that even renewed affections must be tested, because indwelling sin remains active in believers.[6] Jonathan Edwards distinguished between true spiritual affections and counterfeit ones not by intensity, but by their fruit—humility, obedience, perseverance, and love for God rather than love for experience.[7]
This instinct is not suspicious of the Spirit; it is suspicious of the human heart. And this is where many miscategorize impulses, and Scripture itself warrants this posture. The same Bible that celebrates delight in God also warns that the heart is deceitful above all things. The same Spirit who convicts also cautions believers not to trust themselves. The wisdom literature, our greatest tool to discipline the inner life, repeatedly warns against impulsiveness, haste, and unexamined desire. Instead, it commends patience, seeking counsel, and a fear of the Lord.
What emerges from this biblical and historical witness is a crucial distinction that we must see: inner impulses are descriptive rather than prescriptive. They tell us something about what is happening within us, but they do not tell us what God is commanding us to do. An impulse may reflect a variety of emotions, such as compassion, fear, ambition, love, or pride. And these may be shaped by varying degrees of one’s sanctification, but they are also certainly distorted by remaining sinful inclinations. Until it is tested by Scripture, evaluated with counsel, and weighed with humility, impulses remain imprecise.
This is why it seems prudent to resist language that treats inner impulses as divine speech. The Spirit still speaks, yes, and Amen, but He speaks primarily through Scripture. He still leads and guides God’s people, but He leads through illumination, wisdom, and obedience. The Holy Spirit will still convict, but that conviction drives us toward repentance and faith, not toward secret knowledge. Here is what seems to be the main problem: when believers treat inner impulses as commands, they burden consciences God has left free. Yet, the opposite is also true: when they dismiss inner impulses entirely, they risk flattening the Christian life into cold rationalism. Faithful discernment refuses both of these errors.
The question, then, is not whether inner impulses exist. They do. The question is how they are interpreted, tested, and acted upon. Scripture does not invite believers to ignore the inner life, but to shepherd it. Desires must be examined. Feelings should be acknowledged, not obeyed. Impressions need to be weighed, not blindly followed. All of this happens under the lordship of Christ, whose voice is heard clearly in His Word.
When Inner Impulses Go Unchecked: Dangers We Must Name
The danger of inner impulses is rarely rebellion. More often, it is acting in absolute sincerity without wisdom. Many believers who follow impressions too quickly are not trying to replace Scripture. They are trying to obey God. But we must agree that good intentions do not make impressions reliable, and adding spiritual language does not make a desire holy. When inner impulses are not tested, they can quietly take a place Scripture never gives them.
One common danger is spiritual urgency. When someone has an impulse, it can often feel pressing, so acting quickly feels faithful, and waiting feels like disobedience. In this state, wisdom is frequently treated as hesitation and counsel as unbelief. Scripture warns against this posture. The wise person is slow to speak and slow to act. God is not honored by haste that bypasses discernment. Many unwise decisions are not sinful at first glance; they simply move too fast for clarity to catch up.
Another danger is misplaced certainty. Strong feelings can create unwarranted confidence. A person may say, “I just know,” or “I have complete peace,” and assume that certainty itself is a sign of God’s leading. But Scripture never treats inner confidence as proof of divine direction. The heart can feel sure and still be wrong. Biblical faith is not confidence in our impressions; it is trust in God’s character and obedience to His Word.
These final two are the ones most concerning, so test my thoughts here—the danger of spiritualized self-will. An impulse may align with personal desire, comfort, control, or escape. When wrapped in spiritual language, these desires can become difficult to challenge for anyone seeking to counsel. If someone says, “God led me,” it can shut down questions that should be asked. This is why Scripture insists on seeking counsel for confirmation. God often protects us from ourselves through the loving caution of others.
Another significant danger is conscience-burdening. When inner impulses are treated as divine commands, believers begin to fear missing God’s will. Ordinary decisions become weighed down with such immense spiritual pressure that true freedom disappears, and anxiety inevitably grows. Instead of walking by faith, believers walk on eggshells throughout life, always waiting for the next divine impulse to guide them. This kind of spirituality does not produce joy or maturity. It produces fear.
On the opposite side is an equal danger. Some respond to this confusion by rejecting inner life altogether. They dismiss conviction. They ignore genuine desires. They flatten the Christian life into logic and preference. This, too, is unbiblical. God works at the heart level by realigning one’s affections. The Spirit does convict, comfort, and reshape our desires. To deny this is not wisdom. It is spiritual numbness.
Both sides of this error stem from the same root: we want clarity that God has not promised. We want certainty where God has called us to trust. Inner impulses become dangerous when they are asked to carry more weight than they were meant to bear. Scripture offers a better way. It does not tell us to silence our hearts, but to shepherd them. It does not ask us to follow every desire, but to test them. It does not tell us to quench the Spirit, but to listen to Him where He speaks clearly, in the Word.
The goal of discernment is not to avoid every wrong step. It is to walk faithfully with a right heart. As we have said time and time again in this series, God is more concerned with who we are becoming than with whether we interpret every impulse correctly. He shapes His people through truth, patience, repentance, and obedience. Inner impulses may alert us to something worth examining, but they are not instructions to be followed without wisdom.
This is why we need a clear, Scripture-governed way to evaluate inner movements of the heart. Not to quench the Spirit, and not to indulge the flesh. But to walk steadily in faith. We will lay out a simple framework for discernment. It will not promise certainty, but hopefully it will offer clarity. It will not replace prayer, but it will strengthen it. And it will help believers move forward with confidence rooted not in impressions, but in Christ Himself.
A Way Forward: A Discernment Framework Rooted in Christ
An impulse may start the process, but Scripture,
wisdom, and community test it, and then we act in faith
—trusting Christ with the outcome.
If inner impulses are real but unreliable, then believers need more than warnings. We need a way forward that is clear, biblical, and livable. Scripture does not leave us guessing. Rather, it gives us a framework for discernment that is sturdy enough to carry real life and gentle enough to preserve freedom.
The first and final authority in discernment is Scripture. God’s Word tells us who He is, what He values, and how His people are to live. No impulse, desire, or impression carries weight if it contradicts what God has clearly said. If Scripture forbids something, the question is settled. If Scripture commands something, obedience is required. And if Scripture gives freedom, then wisdom—not fresh revelation—is needed. The Spirit never leads against the Word He inspired.
Within that Scriptural boundary, God calls believers to exercise wisdom. Wisdom is not a feeling. It is a skill in godly living that grows slowly through obedience, humility, and practice. Wisdom asks simple questions: Is this loving? Is this patient? Is this honest? Does this reflect the character of Christ? Many decisions are not about right versus wrong, but about better versus best. God honors believers who seek wisdom instead of shortcuts.
Discernment also requires an honest examination of the heart. Inner impulses reveal something, but not always something good. A desire may come from compassion, but it may also come from fear. It may arise from faith, but it may also occur from pride. Scripture teaches us to question our motives without despising ourselves. We ask: what is driving us? We bring our hearts into the light. We remember that even sincere believers still struggle with sinful motives.
God also uses counsel to guard His people. Scripture is clear that plans often fail when they are made alone. The Spirit works through pastors, parents, and mature believers. Counsel serves mainly to slow us down. It also exposes blind spots and tests our certainty. When an impulse cannot survive humble conversation, it should not be trusted. God often speaks through the wisdom of others, not through isolated confidence.
Providence also plays a role, but it must be handled carefully. Open doors may confirm wisdom. Closed doors may protect us from harm. But providence does not give commands. It confirms direction already shaped by Scripture and wisdom. Reading providence as a code leads back to anxiety and superstition. Receiving providence as confirmation leads to peace and trust.
All of this must be carried by prayerful dependence. Prayer is not asking God to reveal secrets. It is asking God for wisdom. It is placing our plans before Him while confessing our limits. God promises to give wisdom generously, but be careful, He does not promise to remove all uncertainty. Prayer trains us to trust God with outcomes we cannot control.
Again, this framework does not promise certainty, because Scripture never does. What it promises is faithfulness. Remember, God does not require His children to decode His will, but to trust Him. He does not punish wise obedience when outcomes differ from expectations because He alone is sovereign over results. We are responsible for faithfulness only.
At the center of this framework stands Jesus Christ. Discernment is not a technique. It is a way of walking with Him; remember that Christ obeyed the Father perfectly, even when the path led through suffering. He trusted the Father, which always gave way to obedience. At the cross, the greatest act of obedience looked like failure to some, but Scripture reveals it as salvation.
Because of Christ, believers are no longer trying to earn God’s favor through perfect discernment. We are already accepted. Now united to Him by grace, we can know the Spirit who indwells us is not a harsh taskmaster, but a faithful guide. The Spirit will lead us through truth, not riddles. He forms us through obedience, not fear.
Inner impulses no longer need to frighten us or rule us. They can be noticed without being obeyed. They can be tested without being despised. They can and should be submitted to Scripture.
[1]This is not to deny that God leads His people today; but to deny that God gives new revelation. Scripture is complete and final, while the Spirit guides believers through illumination, wisdom, providence, and obedience, yet never by adding to God’s Word.
[2] For a critique of modern disembodied accounts of personhood rooted in Cartesian dualism, see Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, vol. 2 (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 531–556.
[3] See Jeremiah 17:9, which identifies the heart as “deceitful above all things,” necessitating divine examination and correction rather than autonomous trust.
[4] Ignatius of Loyola, Spiritual Exercises, “Rules for the Discernment of Spirits” — Especially Rules 1–14.
[5] Iain H. Murray, Revival and Revivalism: The Making and Marring of American Evangelicalism 1750–1858 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1994).
[6] John Owen, Of the Mortification of Sin in Believers, in The Works of John Owen, vol. 6, ed. William H. Goold (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1967), 1–86.
[7] Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections, ed. John E. Smith, vol. 2 of The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1959), esp. Part III.
In the first three articles of this series, we laid the theological and pastoral groundwork for discerning God’s will. We began by recovering the long-held Christian conviction that God has given His people two books—the Book of Scripture and the Book of Providence—but only one speaks with interpretive clarity. As Calvin warned, “The providence of God is a labyrinth to those who leave the Word”; therefore, Scripture must always interpret God’s works, never the other way around. Providence reveals God’s hand, but Scripture alone reveals His heart and purposes in Christ.
From there, we clarified why modern believers cannot read providence as the prophets and apostles once did. Joseph, Daniel, and Paul interpreted events with certainty because God disclosed their meaning by divine revelation. We no longer live in that era. Hebrews 1:1–2 marks a decisive shift: God has spoken finally in His Son, and that revelation is preserved in Scripture. As Sinclair Ferguson puts it, “The Spirit leads not by whispering new words, but by sharpening our understanding of the written Word.” We are not inspired interpreters of providence; we are Spirit-indwelt pilgrims who live under a completed canon.
Most recently, we turned our attention to daily decisions, where Scripture’s guidance is often assumed to be weakest but is, in fact, strongest. J.I. Packer captured this beautifully when he wrote, “God’s guidance is more a matter of discerning what He has already said than discovering what He has not said.” The Spirit forms wisdom not by granting secret information, but by shaping our instincts through ordinary obedience—speech, work, repentance, love of neighbor, prayer, and trust. As Kevin DeYoung memorably summarized, “God is not a magic eight-ball.” God’s will is not a hidden tightrope but a wide floor mat—clear biblical boundaries within which His children are free to walk faithfully.
But this raises an unavoidable question: What about the decisions that feel anything but ordinary?
Marriage, vocation, relocation, missions, and church commitment carry visible weight, and the stakes seem so much higher. These decisions shape the course of a life, not merely a day. Where daily decisions form habits, big decisions expose fears because they can carry more lasting joys and heartaches. Be aware, though, the danger is not that Scripture becomes unclear in these moments, but that our confidence in Scripture quietly begins to erode. We are tempted to seek a different mode of guidance, something more personalized, more certain, more risk-free. Yet Scripture offers no separate theology for major decisions. Understanding the difference between daily decisions and big decisions is not the method of discernment, but the cost of obedience.
Before moving forward, several truths from the series deserve to be held firmly:
Scripture alone reveals God’s will with authority; providence never explains itself. Scripture gives God’s interpretation of reality, while providence must always be read through what God has already said.
The Spirit’s guidance today is illumination, not new revelation. The Spirit leads by opening our eyes to understand and apply Scripture, not by adding new words alongside it.
God’s sovereign will cannot be missed; God’s moral will cannot be hidden. What God ordains will always come to pass, and what God commands is always clearly revealed.
God is more concerned with who we are becoming than with which option we choose. The Lord uses our decisions to shape Christlike character, not merely to steer us toward a single flawless outcome.
Wisdom—not signs—is God’s appointed means for most decisions. God calls His people to apply biblical truth thoughtfully and prayerfully rather than waiting for extraordinary confirmation.
It is this last one that I really want to lean more into in this article, because, as we said before, the difference between daily decisions and major decisions is not in how we discern God’s will, but in how costly obedience feels. The cost of major decisions feels greater because we instinctively recognize their life-shaping power. Choices about marriage, vocation, relocation, or church commitment carry consequences that extend into the future, which in turn feel like a narrowing of future options and the shaping of daily realities. Because these decisions are more complicated to reverse, the call to trust God feels weightier. What changes, then, is not the way God guides His people, but our heightened awareness of what obedience may require. And it is because of this that we tend to always look for signs and more extraordinary confirmation before making these choices.
The Myth of the Perfect Choice
One of the most persistent errors Christians bring into major decisions is what Thomas Watson would have called a confusion of categories: the belief that God has one perfect, hidden route—one spouse, one job, one city—and that discovering it is the essence of obedience. You know what I am talking about simply by saying, something like: “He is the ONE!!!” Unfortunately, due to the influence of pop culture and the glamorization of modern media, many are led to view decisions about a spouse, a job, or a city through rose-colored glasses.
Modern culture constantly catechizes us into believing that life’s most significant decisions are about discovering the one perfect option already written for us. Few songs express this more gently—and more powerfully—than Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String.” The song imagines an unseen thread quietly tying two people together across time, places, and failed relationships, until they finally discover one another. Everything that came before is reinterpreted as necessary preparation for this inevitable meeting.
When this way of thinking seeps into our theology of decision-making, it subtly reshapes how we understand God’s will. Marriage becomes the discovery of the person God has secretly assigned or created for us. Vocation becomes the uncovering of the job we were always meant to take. A move, a ministry, or a church becomes a matter of finding the right thread rather than making a faithful choice. If we choose wrongly, we fear we have not merely erred—we have missed the story altogether.
But Scripture tells a different story. God does not reveal His will by inviting us to trace invisible strings through our past. He reveals His will by forming wise, faithful people who can walk obediently within the boundaries of His Word. Meaning does not come from discovering the one perfect option; it comes from keeping the covenant once a choice is made. Faithfulness, not fate, is the Bible’s category.
The real danger of the “invisible string” mindset is not romantic hope, but spiritual paralysis. If God has designed only one correct path, then every decision becomes a threat, every uncertainty a potential disaster. Yet the God of Scripture is not a hidden matchmaker or cosmic puppeteer dangling clues. He is a shepherd who leads His people along clear paths of obedience, even when the terrain ahead feels uncertain. Providence may look clearer in hindsight, but it is meant to strengthen trust—not replace wisdom. God is not asking us to find the perfect thread. He is calling us to walk faithfully on the solid ground He has already revealed.
Cultural Pressure and the Burden of Choice
Modern Western culture has dramatically intensified this problem. Carl Trueman has repeatedly observed that we now live in a world where identity is inward, choice is expressive, and authenticity is moralized. Decisions are no longer evaluated primarily by faithfulness or wisdom, but by whether they maximize personal fulfillment and self-realization. Under such conditions, the “wrong” decision threatens not merely inconvenience, but identity itself.
This cultural air we breathe explains why Christians today are often paralyzed by choice, especially life-shaping ones. We have been trained to fear not just error, but what seems like finding your true meaning or purpose. In the face of this pressure, Scripture offers a profoundly liberating word: Your life is not secured by making the perfect choice, but by belonging to a faithful Savior. As Piper reminds us, God’s providence is not random power but purposeful sovereignty—He will be completely successful in achieving His ends, even through our imperfect decisions.
Common Errors in Big Decisions
Under this weight in big decisions, believers often drift toward familiar distortions in their search for a way.
Some believers seek fleeces and signs, waiting for circumstantial certainty before they will act. Others look inward, elevating impressions or a subjective sense of peace into divine messages. Both approaches often appeal to Scripture for justification. Gideon’s fleece is cited (Judg. 6), Paul’s closed and open doors are invoked (Acts 16), and Philippians 4 is frequently used to argue that a felt sense of peace confirms God’s will. At first glance, these practices appear reverent and biblical—after all, they claim to seek God rather than act independently.
The difficulty is not that Scripture speaks of signs, providence, or peace. The difficulty is how those texts are being used. Gideon’s fleece was not presented as a model of discernment, but as an episode of fearful hesitation graciously endured by God. Paul’s reading of providence occurred under apostolic authority and within the unique revelatory context of the New Testament mission, not as a pattern to be repeated by all believers. And in Philippians 4, Paul is not offering peace as a decision-making mechanism, but as a guard for the anxious heart.
In Philippians 4, Paul addresses believers weighed down by anxiety, not paralyzed by uncertainty about which option to choose. His exhortation is not, “Wait until you feel peace before you act,” but rather, “Bring everything to God in prayer, with thanksgiving, and trust Him with the outcome.” The promise that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” is not a promise of directional clarity, but of emotional stability rooted in trust. That peace protects believers from being ruled by fear while they obey what God has already revealed.
When Gideon or Philippians 4 are turned into a compass rather than a comfort, peace becomes a prerequisite for obedience rather than a fruit of trust. Decisions are delayed until anxiety subsides, and obedience is postponed until emotions cooperate. Yet Scripture never teaches that God grants emotional calm before faithful action. Often, peace follows obedience rather than preceding it. Paul himself frequently acted under pressure, danger, and unresolved uncertainty, yet with deep confidence in God’s care.
Calvin warned sharply against this instinct to chase certainty through inward assurance, insisting that when we seek God’s secret will instead of obeying His revealed will, we “vainly wander.” Providence may confirm wisdom after the fact, but it never replaces Scripture beforehand. Here is the main point: feelings may accompany obedience, but they never define it.
The biblical pattern is steadier and far more freeing. God guides His people through a Word that forms wisdom, a Spirit who illumines that Word, and a providence that unfolds under His sovereign care. Philippians 4 and other texts teach us not how to discover God’s will, but how to rest in God’s faithfulness while we walk in it. Peace is not the signal that tells us where to go; it is the guard that keeps our hearts steady as we go.
Yet, others swing in the opposite direction, reacting against signs and impressions by treating major decisions as purely pragmatic. The language sounds wise—being realistic, weighing options, thinking strategically—but prayer becomes superficial, Scripture becomes background noise, and dependence on God is quietly replaced by confidence in planning. Decisions are made through logic alone, with God asked to bless the outcome rather than to govern the process. This posture may appear mature, but it functions as nothing more then chirstianized autonomy.
Jesus leaves no room for this way of thinking: “Apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). He does not say we can do less, or do things with diminished effect, but that we can do nothing that truly bears fruit apart from abiding in Him. Biblical wisdom, then, is not secular calculation with religious language attached. It is discernment shaped by reverence, prayer, humility, and trust in the Lord who gives wisdom and directs paths.
One way to recognize this drift toward autonomy is through a simple diagnostic checklist:
Is prayer shaping the decision, or merely accompanying it? Am I genuinely seeking God’s wisdom, or simply informing Him of what I have already decided?
Is Scripture governing my reasoning, or only confirming my preferences? Am I asking what honors God, or only what seems efficient, advantageous, or comfortable?
Is counsel welcomed, or selectively ignored? Do I invite correction, or only affirmation from voices that agree with me?
Is faith required, or would this decision make just as much sense if God were absent? Would my approach look any different if I truly believed the Lord directs my steps?
These questions do not exist to paralyze believers or undermine careful thinking. Scripture commends planning, foresight, and prudence. But it also insists that wisdom begins not with calculation, but with the fear of the Lord. Where prayer is replaced by strategy and dependence by control, wisdom quietly erodes into self-reliance.
True biblical discernment holds planning and prayer together. It thinks carefully, but it also kneels. It weighs costs, but it entrusts outcomes to God. It moves forward responsibly, while confessing that fruitfulness belongs to the Lord alone. In this way, wisdom is not weakened by dependence—it is made possible by it.
A Biblical Matrix for Big Decisions
A faithful approach to major decisions can be summarized simply and biblically:
Scripture governs What is lawful, wise, and loving. No option that violates God’s Word is truly an option.
Wisdom applies Biblical principles are brought to bear through prayer, counsel, and sanctified judgment (Phil. 1:9–11).
Providence informs Circumstances shape context and opportunity but never speak with divine authority.
Faith chooses Acting without guarantees, trusting that the God who ordains the ends also ordains the means.
Flavel said it well: “Providence is like Hebrew—it must be read backward.” We often see God’s wisdom most clearly not before obedience, but after it. Big decisions are not about achieving certainty; they are about practicing trust. God is not waiting to punish His children for choosing faithfully within His will. He is shaping them—through wisdom, risk, prayer, and obedience—into the likeness of Christ.
In the first article of our Two-Book Series, we argued that God has given His people two books — the Book of Scripture and the Book of providence — but only one of them speaks with infallible clarity. We saw that scripture interprets God’s world and how He moves in it, not the other way around. Yet we saw that providence is real, but its meaning is often hidden; therefore, Christians must read the “world” through the Word, not the Word through the world. Then, in the second article, we showed why modern believers cannot interpret providence as inspired prophets once did. Joseph, Elijah, and Paul read events with divine authority because they were carried along by the Spirit and contributed to Scripture as God interpreted His own work (2 Pet 1:21). But since God has now spoken definitively in His Son (Heb 1:1–2), the Spirit no longer inspires new revelation but illumines the completed revelation. We are not prophets deciphering secrets; we are pilgrims trusting promises.
Every Christian longs to know God’s will for jobs, marriages, moves, friendships, finances, parenting, and ministry. We all desire certainty and clarity when making both big life-altering decisions and daily choices. We often want a voice from heaven or a clear sign in our circumstances. And yet, if we are honest, many believers feel torn between two unhealthy tendencies:
Prophetic Impulse: “God told me to take this job… marry this person… move to this city.”
Paralyzing Fear: “What if I miss God’s will? What if I choose the wrong path?”
So what if I told you the Scripture offers something better than both: a Spirit-led life shaped by wisdom, ruled by Scripture, and rooted in trust. There is a difference when making huge life decisions and our day-to-day choices. This article explains how the Spirit guides believers today in daily life choices without granting prophetic status to our impressions or reducing life to merely self-reliant calculation.
Christians often stumble in discerning God’s guidance because we collapse categories Scripture keeps distinct. From Augustine to Calvin, from the English Puritans to modern writers like J.I. Packer, the church has recognized that God reveals His will in more than one way and that confusion arises when we expect from one category what God has promised only in another. Thomas Watson famously wrote, “God’s will is the rule of all righteousness,” yet he carefully distinguished between God’s secret will (what He ordains) and His revealed will (what He commands).
Jonathan Edwards explained it this way: God has two kinds of willing. His will of decree is what He sovereignly brings to pass in history. His will of command is what He tells us to do in Scripture. Edwards said that sometimes God may will something in His sovereign plan that He does not will in the sense of approving it as a moral action. For example, God commanded that people not commit murder (His will of command), yet He sovereignly ordained the crucifixion of Christ—the most unjust murder in history—for the salvation of the world (His will of decree). In other words, God may allow something He does not morally desire, because He has a larger purpose in view.
J.I. Packer, drawing from the Puritans, wrote, “God’s guidance is more a matter of discerning what He has already said than discovering what He has not said.” These distinctions are not simply academic; they are lifelines for the Christian to walk in daily obedience, pleasing to God. When we fail to honor them, we either become mystics seeking secret messages, or neurotics terrified of making a wrong move, or secular pragmatists assuming God is silent in the ordinary things of life. Scripture offers a better, steadier, wiser path.
Below are the categories that help to keep us sane and biblical (There is one divine will expressed in multiple aspects, operations, or ways of willing as revealed in Scripture)
The New Testament speaks of God’s “will” in three distinct senses:
God’s Sovereign Will (the will of decree)
Everything God ordains to happen (Eph 1:11; Dan 4:35). This will cannot be missed — it unfolds regardless of our awareness.
God’s Moral Will (the will of command)
Revealed in Scripture — what God commands all believers to do (1 Thess 4:3; Mic 6:8). This will can be disobeyed but never hidden.
God’s Wisdom Will (the will of God for particular decisions)
These are not commands but applications of commands, guided by wisdom, counsel, prayer, and sanctified desire (Phil 1:9–11). This is where believers must apply biblical principles to specific circumstances.
Here is what we really need to see: confusion begins when Christians demand the clarity of Sovereign Will for matters God has placed in the realm of Wisdom Will.
Historically, the church has guarded these categories because the spiritual health of believers depends on them. Calvin wrote that God “governs all things by His secret counsel,” yet in another place insisted we must “fix our minds on God’s Word” rather than “vainly wander after His secret will.” The Westminster Divines echoed this: “The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary… is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture.” In other words, when Scripture is silent about a specific decision, God has not left us without guidance. Instead, He simply intends us to walk by wisdom, not by clairvoyance.
All of these voices converge on the same point:
Christians err when they demand prophetic clarity for what God
intends to be navigated with biblical wisdom.
When we confuse the categories, we end up treating our feelings as inspired prophecy, our circumstances as divine oracles, and our fears as divine warnings. But when we honor the categories, we gain freedom: freedom to obey what God has revealed, freedom to trust what God has decreed, and freedom to make wise decisions without anxiety over missing God’s hidden blueprint. Do not hear me saying the Spirit does not guide. The Spirit simply will not bypass Scripture; by illuminating it, applying it, and forming wisdom in us, it makes us the kind of people who make godly choices.
Yet not all Christians think about God’s will in biblically healthy ways, and these misunderstandings often burden God’s people rather than guide them. Below are some of the most common ones I have read about and seen:
Error 1: The Perfect-Route View
This view assumes that God has one perfect, hidden path for every decision—one job, one house, one school, one spouse—and that your entire life depends on discovering it. People who hold this view often live with a quiet fear that a single wrong choice will forever derail God’s plan. What we need to see is that this doesn’t produce trust; it produces spiritual anxiety, omen-reading, and superstition. The Bible offers something far better: “The secret things belong to the LORD, but the things revealed belong to us” (Deut 29:29). God has not given us the burden of omniscience. He calls us to obey what He has revealed, not to decode what He has kept hidden. Our task is faithfulness, not fortune-telling.
Error 2: The Inner-Mystic View
This approach teaches believers to listen for inner whispers, subtle impressions, or “nudges,” and to treat those feelings as divine revelation. Where this is so dangerous is that you must treat those feelings as divine revelation, “God told me to…” This danger is subtle but serious: it gives our hearts an authority Scripture never gives them. The Bible warns us plainly, “The heart is deceitful above all things” (Jer 17:9). Left to itself, it can confuse desire with direction. Paul reminds us that the Spirit grants discernment not through private revelations but through illumination of the Word: “We have the mind of Christ”—that is, the Spirit helping us grasp and apply Scripture (1 Cor 2:12–16). Yes, the Spirit truly guides, but He guides through Scripture-shaped wisdom, not apart from it.
Error 3: The Secular View
This view treats life’s decisions as purely human matters—logic, personality, preference, and timing—with God watching from a distance. It reduces wisdom to cleverness and planning to self-reliance. But Jesus overturns this entirely: “Apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). The Christian life is not deistic independence but ongoing dependence. Wisdom is not mere intelligence; it is a God-centered way of seeing all of reality, formed by Scripture and empowered by the Spirit. To plan without prayer or to seek without Scripture is to act as though God is irrelevant, when Jesus says we cannot take a single fruitful step without Him.
All three views—perfect-route, inner-mystic, and secular—distort the biblical picture of how God guides His people, either by producing fear, elevating private impressions, or removing God from the equation altogether.
So if these are the ways we might err, yet we know the Spirit illuminates scripture, and we must make decisions, how do we do so?
The Spirit guides believers first and foremost through the Word He inspired. His primary work today is illumination — opening our eyes to understand, apply, and delight in Scripture (Ps 119:18; 1 Cor 2:12). Every path we take must be measured against what God has already revealed. As believers walk in that revealed truth, the Spirit shapes wisdom within them. Biblical wisdom is not mystical intuition but skill in godly living against the backdrop of God’s revealed reality (Prov 1:7). It is formed through reverence for the Lord, a longing for obedience, and deep daily saturation in Scripture.
Alongside the Word and wisdom, the Spirit leads through prayerful dependence, as God promises to give wisdom generously to those who ask (James 1:5). This is not about hearing secret messages but about seeking clarity and sound judgment. God also works through the counsel of the church, where pastors and mature believers help us see what we cannot discern on our own (Prov 15:22). Through all this, as we grow, the Spirit reshapes our desires (Phil 2:13), and aligns our longings more naturally with godly direction. Even providence plays a role: open doors might become opportunities and closed doors might be protections, but neither is an infallible signal. Providence confirms wisdom; it never replaces Scripture.
I love how Sinclair Ferguson reminds us, “The Spirit leads not by whispering new words but by sharpening our understanding of the written Word.” That reframes everything. God’s will is not a narrow balance beam we’re terrified of falling off — as if one wrong step ruins our lives. It is more like a broad floor mat with clear, biblical boundaries around the edges. Inside those boundaries, we are free to move, choose, and act with Spirit-shaped wisdom and trust. The Christian life is not about guessing the one secret square in the middle of the mat but about staying within what God has revealed and walking in faith. Kevin DeYoung says it memorably in Just Do Something: “God is not a magic eight-ball.” He does not intend to keep us paralyzed, shaking the heavens for a sign. He calls us to walk wisely, obey boldly, and trust deeply — confident that He shepherds our steps within the wide, gracious space of His revealed will.
Here is where we must remember God does not hide His will from sincere believers. We cannot miss His sovereign will, for everything unfolds according to His eternal purpose (Eph 1:11). We can obey His moral will, which is plainly revealed in Scripture and lights our path (Ps 119:105). And we must practice God’s wisdom will — the realm of decisions where Scripture gives principles rather than prescriptions. I hope we understand in these matters, God grants freedom rather than anxiety. Where Scripture gives freedom, God really provides freedom. He is not waiting to punish us for choosing Door A instead of Door B. He is shaping the kind of person who makes choices in faith, love, and wisdom, confident that He shepherds our steps even when we feel uncertain.
In conclusion, Scripture consistently warns that the greatest threat in daily decision-making is not picking the wrong option — it is choosing with the wrong heart. Understand pride blinds and impatience misleads. Lust manipulates, and be sure bitterness distorts. God is far more concerned with who we are becoming than with which job, city, or opportunity we select. “In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths” (Prov 3:6). Straight paths come from straight hearts. The Spirit’s guidance is not a secret code but a sanctified calling: Here is a merged, cohesive, and polished version:
We make daily choices with Scripture as our foundation, godly counsel as our guardrails,
prayer as our aligning engine, providence as our confirmation, sanctified desires as our compass,
and trust as the anchor holding us to God’s faithful leading.
We do not need prophetic certainty to honor God in the ordinary choices of each day. What we need is faith-filled obedience, wise thinking, and deep trust in the God who directs our steps. His Word is a lamp to our feet — enough light for the next step, even if it doesn’t reveal the entire highway. And that is enough, because God Himself walks with us.
In the next article, we’ll move from everyday wisdom to major life decisions—jobs, moves, marriage, ministry—and explore how God guides His people through turning points that shape the whole course of their lives.
How God’s revelation shifted from inspired interpretation to Spirit-illumined wisdom.
The first article in this series established the framework: God has given His people two “books” to read — the Book of Scripture and the Book of Providence. Scripture is His clear, final Word; providence is His ongoing governance of the world. We learned that Christians must read these books in the right order. Scripture interprets providence; providence never competes with revelation nor adds to it.
Many today over-read providence, treating every feeling or coincidence as a divine signal. Others under-read providence, living as if God has withdrawn from the everyday world. The first article called us back to a robust, biblical wisdom: God acts everywhere, but He speaks decisively in Scripture. Now we move to the next question: Why can’t we interpret events as the prophets once did?
There is a profound difference between how believers interpret God’s activity today and how the prophets and apostles interpreted it in Scripture.
“The prophets interpreted events as revelation; we interpret events through revelation.”
Joseph could say with certainty, “God meant it for good” (Gen. 50:20). Elijah could announce droughts and rain by direct command (1 Kgs. 17–18). Daniel could read Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams as divine messages. Nathan could walk into David’s throne room and say, “Thus says the LORD,” unveiling the meaning of David’s sin and God’s response with absolute authority (2 Sam. 12). Isaiah could interpret the rise and fall of nations, even naming Cyrus a century and a half before he was born, because the Spirit revealed God’s purposes in history (Isa. 44–45).
None of these men was simply making educated guesses or applying spiritual intuition. They were not assembling clues from circumstances and inferring divine meaning. They spoke because God spoke. Their insight into providence was not the fruit of godly wisdom but the result of direct, authoritative revelation from God. They were the instruments through whom God disclosed what He was doing and why He was doing it. Their interpretations did not merely reflect on God’s works—they became the very words of God.
The prophets and apostles did not discover God’s meaning; God disclosed it to them.
This same model continued in the New Testament. Peter, preaching at Pentecost, interpreted the crucifixion as the fulfillment of the “definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23), and he did so with confidence because he was speaking under the inspiration of the Spirit. When Paul wrote from prison that what had happened to him had “really served to advance the gospel” (Phil. 1:12), he was not expressing spiritual optimism or personal reflection; he was giving God’s authoritative explanation of God’s sovereign work in his suffering. The apostles understood the events of their lives, the movements of the church, and the unfolding plan of redemption because Christ Himself had entrusted them with the Spirit who would “guide [them] into all truth” (John 16:13). This means their interpretations carried divine authority, the same authority that breathed out the Scriptures themselves (2 Tim. 3:16). They were not reading providence; they were writing Scripture.
Our situation is fundamentally different. We are not prophets. We are not apostles. We do not receive new revelation from God in this way. We do not stand in the stream of inspired interpretation in which God explains His own actions through living messengers. Yet, God still governs all things—He raises kings and brings them low, opens wombs and closes them, disciplines His people and comforts them, ordains suffering and brings redemption—but He no longer gives inspired commentary on His every act. This is extremely important as the era in which God interpreted His works through prophets and apostles has ended. With the close of the canon, the Spirit’s work changed from inspiration to illumination. We now receive understanding, not revelation. The Spirit opens our eyes to grasp what God has already said; He does not add new sentences to Scripture or new authoritative interpretations of providence.
This means we must not speak with prophetic certainty where God has not spoken with prophetic clarity. We may look at trials and trust that God intends good (Rom. 8:28), but we may not declare exactly how or why a particular event has occurred unless Scripture gives us the categories. We may recognize discipline, comfort, testing, or refining in the broad patterns Scripture describes, but we cannot claim inspired insight into the specific meaning of one particular providence. Joseph could say, “God meant it for good,” because God revealed the meaning. We may hope in the same truth, but we cannot speak it with the same specificity unless God has spoken.
Their interpretations carried divine authority. Our interpretations must submit to divine authority.
The difference is not that we lack faith or spiritual maturity. The difference is covenantal, meaning we are in the age of the new covenant. We are not lesser versions of Elijah or Paul; we are believers living in a different stage of redemptive history, governed by a completed revelation. Those in the Old Testament spoke revelation; we are called to follow revelation. They read providence with inspired certainty; we read providence with Scripture-shaped wisdom. They explained God’s acts; we obey God’s Word in the midst of His acts.
Now the same Spirit who once revealed new truth now illuminates the truth already given. And this, far from diminishing the Christian life, protects it. It guards us from presumption on one hand and from skepticism on the other. It frees us to trust God fully without claiming to know more than He has revealed, and it grounds us in the sure promise that God is at work even when we cannot map His every move.
We walk by faith, not by sight—even prophetic sight. We are pilgrims, not prophets. Scripture is complete, God is still sovereign, and the Spirit is still active—not to grant inspired interpretation of providence, but to give us wisdom to live faithfully under the providence God ordains.
Okay, so with that said, I want to walk you through the two ages briefly and then offer some clarifying and practical help.
THE AGE OF INSPIRED INTERPRETATION
In the Old Testament and apostolic era, God raised up individuals who could interpret His works with perfect accuracy because they were carried along by the Holy Spirit (2 Pet 1:21). Their words became Scripture.
Joseph interpreted dreams and famine by revelation.
Moses spoke for God as covenant mediator.
Elijah and Elisha performed and interpreted signs with divine authority.
Paul and the apostles applied God’s purposes to the events of their lives and churches with inspired certainty.
This age was unique. The prophets didn’t merely observe providence — they delivered its meaning with infallible, inspired clarity. That role is no longer given, because the canon is complete.
THE AGE OF INSPIRED ILLUMINATION
Hebrews 1:1–2 marks the decisive turning point in how God speaks: “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke… but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.” The emphasis falls on finality — God has spoken. The revelatory era is fulfilled in Christ and preserved in the Scriptures that bear witness to Him. Now this does not mean the Spirit has not ceased to work, but we must understand His work has changed: once He inspired new revelation; now He illumines the completed revelation. This distinction is critical. We no longer receive new words from God; instead, we receive understanding of the Word already given. Therefore, we must not interpret providence as the prophets once did, claiming divine authority for our conclusions. Instead, we interpret providence through the Scripture they left us — the final and sufficient revelation of God’s character, purposes, and promises.
To understand this biblically, we need clear theological categories. Revelation is God’s voice expressed in inspired, written words. Providence is God’s hand sustaining and governing all events. Illumination is the Spirit opening our eyes to understand and obey what God has already revealed in His Word. Revelation or the Scripture is objective, providence is observable, and illumination is transformative. Only when these are held in the correct order — Scripture first, providence second, illumination guiding our understanding — can Christians discern wisely in a world ruled by God’s unseen hand.
TWO MODERN DANGERS
Prophetic Pretension
Some Christians — often sincerely — speak as if their impressions carry the weight of revelation.
“God told me this job is His will.”
“This illness is God warning me.”
“This storm is a sign of His judgment.”
But this collapses illumination back into inspiration, treating personal impressions as though they carried the same authority as Scripture itself. When that happens, the line between “God has said” and “I feel led” becomes dangerously thin. The Holy Spirit still speaks and prompts — but never apart from what He has already said. His voice today is the echo and application of the Word He once inspired, not an addition to it. Whenever we grant our internal impulses divine certainty, we risk drifting toward superstition on one side or spiritual manipulation on the other — claiming a level of authority God has not given and demanding a level of clarity God has not promised.
Skeptical Silence
Others, fearful of error, refuse to see God’s hand at all. They speak as if God wrote the Bible but no longer writes history. They pray, but interpret life as if governed by chance. Providence becomes nothing more than luck or probability.
But Scripture never permits a deistic view of the world. The God who once parted seas is the same God who still counts sparrows (Matt. 10:29), numbers every hair (Luke 12:7), and “works all things according to the counsel of His will” (Eph. 1:11). Nothing in the Bible allows us to imagine a distant Creator who winds the clock and walks away.
So both errors — prophetic pretension on one side and skeptical silence on the other — fall short of the biblical balance. Providence is real. Revelation is finished. Illumination is active. Our task is to honor all three: trusting that God governs every event, submitting to Scripture as His final Word, and relying on the Spirit to help us see His hand without claiming more certainty than He gives.
So, we do not stand in Elijah’s office or Paul’s. We are not inspired interpreters of providence; we are Spirit-indwelt pilgrims living with a completed Book. “We are not prophets deciphering secrets, but pilgrims trusting promises.” God still rules history with the same sovereign hand, but He now teaches His people to interpret His works through His Word, not through private revelation or circumstantial guesswork. Remember this is not a downgrade — it is a gift. To walk by Scripture-shaped wisdom is safer, surer, and far more sanctifying than chasing hidden meanings. Every providence becomes not a code to solve but a call to trust.
Conclusion — Reading the Right Book First
So when suffering comes, when opportunities appear, or when history quakes, we do not begin by asking, “What is God secretly saying?” but rather, “What has God already said?” His Word interprets His world; His promises interpret His providence; His Spirit interprets His Word to our hearts. God is still writing your story, but He is not adding chapters to the Bible to explain it. We walk not by prophetic vision but by the steady, sufficient light of Scripture.
And this raises the following question for every believer: How does the Spirit guide us in the countless daily decisions where Scripture gives no explicit command? How do we discern God’s will in jobs, moves, relationships, opportunities, and timing — without pretending to be prophets or living paralyzed by fear?
The next article will take us there, exploring wisdom, conscience, desires, counsel, and Spirit-led obedience under the authority of God’s Word.
She told me she thought God was speaking through her back pain. When she sat still, it hurt; when she moved, it eased. So she concluded God must be saying, “Move.” Within a month, she had changed jobs, cities, and churches—only to discover that the pain followed her. The pain wasn’t the message she thought it was.
Then there was the young man who couldn’t move at all. He longed to please God but was paralyzed by the fear of making a wrong decision. “What if I miss God’s will for my life?” he asked. He prayed for signs, waited for perfect clarity, and did nothing. His desire to honor God had quietly turned into distrust of God’s guidance.
I have met both of these people and many kinds of believers like them. We could categorize them as those who over-read providence and those who under-read it. One moves in haste, mistaking every circumstance for revelation directly from God; the other refuses to move, afraid that God’s will is a secret code to crack before anything is done. Both love the Lord. Both want to obey. And both, in different ways, have forgotten that God has already spoken with final clarity in His Word.
This series is about learning to read what God has written—in both His Word and His world.
Scripture and providence are not competing sources of revelation but two harmonized expressions of one Divine Author. The Bible is the Spirit-inspired record of how God has revealed Himself through history, culminating in Christ. Providence is the same God at work today—sustaining creation, directing nations, guiding His people, and shaping every moment according to His eternal purposes. Yet to read providence rightly, we must let Scripture teach us its grammar.
Our generation needs this reminder. We are a people drowning in information and starving for interpretation. Many seek fresh revelation where God has already spoken; yet, others see no divine hand at all. We need to recover a biblical theology of wisdom—how to think, choose, and live in a world that is both governed and being redeemed by God.
This series, Reading the Two Books: Scripture and Providence, is written for that purpose. This article (#1) will explore the two books themselves and how they relate. The next (#2) considers why we can no longer read providence as the prophets once did. Later (#3), we’ll turn to daily and major decisions—how the Spirit leads ordinary believers in the details of life—and finally, how to read the times we live in with hope rather than panic (#4).
At its heart, this series is an invitation to both peace and obedience. You don’t have to decode the universe to know God’s will. You simply need to learn to read what He has already written and then joyfully obey.
Providence displays His hand; Scripture reveals His heart.
Some believers try to over-read God’s providence, seeing meaning in every coincidence or discomfort in their lives. Others under-read it, so afraid of making a mistake that they do nothing at all. Both are sincere people who want to know God’s will. And both reveal just how easily we can confuse how God speaks.
That tension—between reading too much and reading too little—is where we begin. When we speak of “reading the two books”—Scripture and providence—we do not mean that God reveals Himself in two equal ways; Scripture alone interprets His works, and providence must always be read through the light of His Word. So to understand how God reveals Himself and how we’re meant to discern His purposes, we need to step back and look at what He’s actually given us. For generations, Christians have spoken of two books written by one Author: the Book of Scripture and the Book of Providence. One is His clear Word; the other, His interaction with the world. Learning to read them together, in the right order, is where true discernment begins.
Creation is continuously speaking; Scripture says in Psalm 19:
“The heavens declare the glory of God… The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul.”
One book proclaims God’s power and wisdom; the other reveals His mercy and will. Both are true, but only one is clear. Augustine called the world “a great book spread open before us.” Calvin wrote that creation is “a most beautiful theatre,” but fallen eyes need the spectacles of Scripture to see it rightly. Without that lens, the stage blurs, and we misread the story being told around us.
Romans 1 echoes this: God’s “invisible attributes—His eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly perceived… in the things that have been made.” Creation testifies, yet people “suppress the truth.” Apart from grace, the book of the world is legible but unread. The Bible is the key that teaches us its language.
“The world tells us that God is glorious; the Word tells us who that glorious God is.”
Scripture is God’s most unmistakable voice—His special revelation. Hebrews 1:1–2 declares, “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke… but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.” In the pages of Scripture, God not only acts but then gives us the Spirit-inspired interpretation of His actions. Here is an example: when He sends the flood (providence), He explains why in the Bible (the revelation of God’s character). When He delivers Israel (providence), He reveals His purpose (the revelation of His redemptive will). When Christ is crucified, the apostles record both the event and its meaning—“according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23).
Revelation, then, is not new information about random events; it serves as God’s own analysis of His providence. Paul tells Timothy that “all Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness” (2 Tim 3:16). Scripture equips us, as God’s people, not just for moral living but for something we might call interpretive living—it teaches us how to see the world. Many call this developing a biblical worldview.
John Piper captures it well:
“The Scriptures are the authoritative interpreter of all reality; it is God’s commentary on all that He does.”.”
That means we never have to base our theology on hunches and our decisions on circumstances alone. We already possess a Spirit-inspired record of how God works in history and redemption. It tells us who He is, how He rules, and what His purposes are in Christ.
Providence, by contrast, is God’s visible hand; it is His sovereignty in visible form. “Whatever the Lord pleases, He does,” sings the psalmist (Ps 135:6). Jesus, Himself, assures His followers that not even a sparrow falls apart from the Father’s will (Matt 10:29). That means every atom, every season, and history is under Divine direction.
Calvin called providence “the continued exercise of that same power by which He created.” Creation, then, was not the winding of a cosmic clock left to perpetual wind on its own but the beginning of an unfolding drama orchestrated by a divine director. Stephen Charnock later called providence “the perpetual motion of His sovereignty.” Thomas Boston described it more tenderly and personally: “The crook in thy lot is of God’s making.” What we can understand from all these men throughout the history of the church is that, from cosmic forces to personal trials, all events are the choreography of divine wisdom.
Yet, we must heed the warning of Calvin, who said that “the providence of God is a labyrinth to those who leave the Word.” You see, we absolutely can observe God’s works in creation, but we must never misinterpret His ways or purposes. Meaning that without Scripture, trying to read or interpret providence easily becomes superstition.
“Providence without the Word is a riddle; the Word without providence is a dead letter.” — John Flavel
We are meant to read these books together, Scripture as the lamp to walk among providence as landscape. The one reveals meaning; the other displays movement. The woman’s pain and the young man’s paralysis both illustrate what happens when we confuse the order—when we read the world before reading the Word.
We must be careful, as some believers separate the two books too sharply. They affirm the Bible’s authority but live as if God no longer acts in the world, a functional atheist. Their theology is correct, but their imagination is secular. They pray for guidance yet interpret life like materialists. This over-separation empties providence of wonder. Scripture insists otherwise: “In Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). God still upholds all things by the word of His power. To forget that is to live as though the universe were godless.
Others merge the books too thoroughly. They treat every emotion, coincidence, or dream as a divine revelation from God. This over-combination replaces interpretation by Scripture with interpretation by mere instinct. The woman who moved cities was sincere, but she turned pain into prophecy, and the result was confusion rather than clarity.
Both dangers seem to spring from the same impatience: a craving for certainty without Scripture instead of confidence through Scripture. God invites us to trust His Word, not to chase signs in either direction.
Now, here is the excellent news in all this: Christ stands at the center of both books. All things were created through Him, and all Scripture points to Him. Paul writes, “By Him all things were created… and in Him all things hold together” (Col 1:16-17). The cross unites the two revelations perfectly: providence allowed human evil; Scripture reveals divine wrath and mercy. What looked like chaos and murder was the fulfillment of God’s plan for the salvation of His people. This means that the same Jesus who governs galaxies also governs our griefs and joys.
That truth reshapes the way we live. If Scripture is the lamp, providence is the path it illuminates. We don’t stare at the lamp instead of walking, nor do we walk without its light. The Word doesn’t replace the world—it reveals how to walk wisely within it. Every decision, every disappointment, and every delay becomes part of the road where God’s purposes are unfolding before us.
So when confusing circumstances come—a job loss, an unexpected opportunity, an unanswered prayer—we start not with speculation but with revelation. We begin with what God has already said. What does the Bible say His character promises? What does the Bible command? What does faith require in this moment? What would love for God and neighbor do here?
Be certain this posture doesn’t make life effortless, but it makes life discernible. We are not left to guess what pleases God. His revealed Word anchors our steps when providence feels unpredictable. Instead of reading circumstances as cryptic signs, we let Scripture shape our instincts and affections until we can walk by faith rather than sight.
The mature believer learns to see God’s providence as the arena for obedience, not a puzzle to decode. Therefore, a delay may invite patience; a hardship may train endurance; a success may call for humility and stewardship. And even when no apparent reason appears, the lamp of the Word still shines: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Ps 119:105).
This way of living frees the believer from the exhausting burden of deciphering divine will through omens and outcomes. You don’t have to read clouds, coincidences, or emotions as if they were hieroglyphs from heaven. You simply walk in the light you already have. When the Word shapes your heart, decisions become less about decoding mysteries and more about displaying trust. The question shifts from “What if I miss God’s will?” to “How can I honor God right here, right now?” Obedience becomes the act of faith through which providence unfolds.
Scripture gives us the grammar for reading providence. It trains us to see creation through the categories of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration. It reminds us that suffering and success are both instruments of sanctification. When we read the world through the Word, confusion becomes context.
Piper calls this purposeful sovereignty:
“The purposeful sovereignty by which God will be completely successful in the achievement of His ultimate goal for the universe.”
Remember, God’s sovereignty is not random power but intentional love. If we believe this, then His providence is the steady pulse of His purposes. The more we read His Word, the more fluently we can read His world.
The woman with the back pain no longer needs to chase secret messages. Instead, she can rest in the truth that God’s providence includes her suffering and uses it to conform her to Christ. The young man paralyzed by indecision can now act in faith, knowing that obedience, not perfect sign reading, is the path of God’s will. Both can trust that the same Spirit who breathed out Scripture now illumines their daily steps.
When we learn to read God’s two books together, anxiety gives way to worship. The book of Scripture brings us to our knees before grace: “The unfolding of Your words gives light” (Ps 119:130). The book of providence lifts our eyes in wonder: “The earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord” (Ps 33:5).
Together they form a duet—the Word explaining the world, the world echoing the Word. Augustine’s early readers called this harmony sapientia, wisdom—the ability to see all things in relation to God. Flavel said, “The providences of God and the Word of God are sisters and must not be separated. The one explains the other.”
Rightly read, providence produces praise:
“Great are the works of the Lord, studied by all who delight in them.” (Ps 111:2)
God has written two books—one with words, one with the world. Both bear His signature, but only one teaches us how to interpret the other. Read Scripture daily, and it will teach you how to read the news, your body, your emotions, your sufferings, and your joys. Yet, read providence carefully, and it will always drive you back to the Word in gratitude.
The same Spirit who inspired Scripture now opens our eyes to see God’s fingerprints in everything He governs. When you see both rightly, you stop guessing God’s will and start rejoicing in it. Providence is no longer a code to crack but a comfort to trust—a living page in the story of a faithful Author.
“Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf.” — Jeremiah 29:7
“My kingdom is not of this world.” — John 18:36
I grew up in the South, where faith, family, and patriotism are woven together like threads in a single flag. We said things like “God, family, country” with sincerity and conviction. Those words often carried a sense of duty and belonging, a way to express what mattered most to many people. Yet as I grew older and began to study Scripture more carefully, I realized that this well-intentioned slogan had created a quiet confusion in my mind. It placed three realities—God, family, and nation—on the same plane, as if they were equal loyalties competing for my heart. But they are not equal.
God is not one value among several; He is the Creator and Lord over all. Family and country are good gifts, but they are not ultimate ends. When they are treated as coequal with God, we unintentionally shrink His glory and turn good things into rivals of the one thing that deserves absolute allegiance. This realization has forced me to ask a deeper question: How can Christians faithfully serve the kingdom of God while still laboring for the good of the society where we live? How do we hold together Jeremiah’s call to “seek the welfare of the city,” Daniel’s model of serving a pagan government with integrity, and Jesus’ words that His kingdom “is not of this world”?
Exilic Faithfulness in the Old Testament is vividly illustrated through the prophet Jeremiah, who offers one of the clearest pictures of what it means to live faithfully as a cultural exile. In chapter 29, he writes to a displaced people in Babylon, telling them not to withdraw or rebel but to plant gardens, build homes, marry, raise children, and “seek the shalom of the city.” Their good was tied to the city’s good. That command startled the exiled people because Babylon was not their home; it was the empire that had conquered them. Yet, we need to understand that God’s instruction through Jeremiah redefined exile as mission. To seek Babylon’s flourishing was not compromise—it was obedience to the sovereign Lord who rules every nation.
Their good was tied to the city’s good.
Daniel, who also experienced the exile, picks up this same pattern but adds a crucial tension. He serves faithfully within Babylon’s government, demonstrating exceptional skill, integrity, and wisdom (Dan. 2:48; 6:1–4). Yet his loyalty to God always takes precedence over his service to the state. Yes, Babylon was a pagan empire, but the principle still stands: believers can work for the good of imperfect systems without giving those systems ultimate authority.
When told to bow before an idol (Dan. 3:16–18), Daniel refuses. When forbidden to pray (Dan. 6:10), he continues. He does not stage a political revolt, yet neither does he quietly blend in. His obedience to God forms a resistance that is neither defiant nor compliant. Tremper Longman refers to this posture as “cooperative resistance.” It means living and working within our societies—serving employers, governments, and institutions with diligence and respect—while maintaining clear moral boundaries drawn by God’s Word.
We might think of the Christian teacher who honors her school’s policies yet refuses to affirm what Scripture calls false; or the business owner who pays fair wages, refuses dishonest practices, and treats competitors as neighbors rather than enemies. These are not acts of withdrawal, but of faithfulness.
Daniel shows us that believers should be the most dependable, industrious, and loyal citizens in any land, yet never to the point of moral surrender. His life reminds us that faithful presence is not passive compliance but active allegiance. We work for the good of the world, but we never hand over our conscience to it. In short, we participate without losing our distinctiveness; we cooperate without compromising our conviction.
Ezekiel, meanwhile, reveals another dimension of faithfulness. As a priest living among the exiles, he reminds Israel that God’s presence is not confined to the temple in Jerusalem. When the people assumed that God’s glory had vanished with their defeat, Ezekiel’s vision shattered that illusion. The glory of the Lord appears not in the sanctuary of Zion, but by the Chebar Canal, among the captives themselves (Ezek. 1:1–3, 28). It was as if God said, “I am not limited to the structures you built for Me—I am present wherever My people are.”
This is the heart of what we might call “holiness in place.” God’s holiness is not a matter of geography but of proximity—wherever He dwells, He sanctifies. Even in Babylon, the Lord called His people to reflect His character and presence. Ezekiel’s prophetic call to be a “watchman” (Ezek. 3:17) and his repeated refrain that the exiles “shall know that I am the Lord” (Ezek. 6:7, 10; 11:10) remind us that holiness is not postponed until conditions are ideal. It is lived now, in the midst of exile, through obedience, worship, and moral integrity.
Ezekiel’s vision anticipates what Jesus would later affirm—that true worshipers “will worship the Father in spirit and truth” (John 4:23–24). Holiness, then, is not confined to sacred buildings or protected environments; it is the fruit of God’s indwelling Spirit among His people (Ezek. 36:26–27; 1 Cor. 6:19).
We might think of a believer working in a secular office, surrounded by cynicism and compromise, yet quietly refusing to engage in gossip, treating others with dignity, and conducting business with integrity. Or of a young Christian student in a university classroom, standing firm in conviction without arrogance, honoring Christ through excellence and humility. These everyday acts of faithfulness are modern echoes of Ezekiel’s holiness in exile.
Ezekiel’s life teaches us that sanctity is not achieved by escaping culture but by embodying God’s character within it. Wherever God’s people dwell—whether in Jerusalem or Babylon, in the sanctuary or the workplace—the call remains the same: “Be holy, for I am holy” (Lev. 11:44; 1 Pet. 1:15–16). God’s presence does not retreat from hard places; it transforms them into altars of witness.
These three exilic figures—Jeremiah the prophet, Daniel the statesman, and Ezekiel the priest—form a composite portrait of faithful presence. Together, they show that God’s people can be fully engaged for a society’s good while remaining fully loyal to Him. Each of them, in his own way, learned how to live for the city’s welfare without losing a heavenly identity. Their lives stand as previews of a greater reality to come—a people scattered among the nations who bear witness to the reign of God not through conquest or political privilege, but through holiness, truth, and steadfast love.
The New Testament takes this same exilic pattern and fulfills it in Christ. What Jeremiah, Daniel, and Ezekiel lived as isolated examples, Jesus embodies perfectly and universally. He is the true exile who left His Father’s glory to dwell among a rebellious world (John 1:14), the true Daniel who serves under corrupt rulers without sin, and the true Ezekiel who brings the presence of God to the margins of human life. In Him, the kingdom of God breaks into history—not as a geopolitical restoration, but as a spiritual reign transforming every sphere of life.
Jesus is the true exile who left His Father’s glory
to live among a rebellious world.
When Jesus stood before Pilate and declared, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36), He was not saying that His rule has no relevance here. He was saying that His kingdom is not from this world—it does not arise from earthly power or political coercion. Christ’s reign comes from above; it enters this world through truth, humility, and sacrificial love. That distinction matters immensely. His statement corrects the political triumphalism that equates God’s kingdom with any earthly regime, but it also rebukes the quietism that retreats from public life altogether. The people of God in both Testaments share the same calling—to live for the good of a society or kingdom while belonging to another one—but in Christ, that calling now takes on the power of resurrection and a global scope.
Jesus’ interaction with a questioner over a Roman coin offers a similar balance. When He said, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:21), He affirmed legitimate civic responsibility while also limiting its reach. Coins may bear Caesar’s image, but human beings bear the image of God. Taxes belong to the emperor, but our lives belong to the Creator. That means Christians honor governments as instruments of God’s common grace while remembering that our ultimate allegiance is to a higher King.
The apostles extend this ethic in concrete ways. Paul teaches believers in Rome to submit to governing authorities as servants of God’s order (Romans 13), yet he writes those words under an emperor who would later persecute Christians. Peter calls believers “sojourners and exiles” (1 Peter), urging them to live honorably among unbelievers so that their good works might lead others to glorify God. Both apostles insist that we pray for rulers, obey just laws, and pursue peace—but always “for the Lord’s sake.” In short, the New Testament invites us into a posture of humble participation and prophetic witness. We live for the world’s good while witnessing to another kingdom entirely.
Called into a posture of humble
participation and prophetic witness
Jesus’ words and the apostles’ exhortation, then, do not pull us out of the world but send us into it with a new purpose. His followers are to live as citizens of heaven who bless the earthly cities they inhabit. This biblical vision of exilic citizenship finds modern expression in what sociologist James Davison Hunter calls “faithful presence.” It is neither a cultural retreat nor a crusade, neither isolation nor domination. Instead, it is long-term, incarnational service for the good of our neighbors. We honor Caesar, but we do so as those who already belong to Christ. We labor for the common good, but our motives are shaped by grace, not nationalism or fear.
Abraham Kuyper helps here with his doctrine of “sphere sovereignty.” God has established distinct domains of life—family, church, and state—each with its own boundaries and responsibilities. None of these spheres is ultimate; all operate under the lordship of Christ. Family and nation are sacred trusts, but not sacred equals. They are arenas of stewardship, not altars of worship. Understanding this keeps us from the kind of civil religion that treats America as a new Israel or the nuclear family as the final measure of faithfulness.
When we see life through this lens, we can labor for the city’s welfare without losing our pilgrim identity. Christians can work in government, teach in schools, serve in the military, or lead businesses, but we do so as ambassadors of another kingdom. Like Daniel, we serve with excellence, yet we never bow to the idols of our age. Like Jeremiah, we pray for our cities, even the ones that misunderstand or oppose us. And like Ezekiel, we live as a holy people who carry God’s presence into exile.
Labor for the city’s welfare
without losing our pilgrim identity
The reason this tension is so difficult is that we tend to divide God’s attributes the way we divide our loyalties. Some emphasize His love and compassion; others highlight His holiness and justice. But God never stops being one thing to be another. Every attribute qualifies every other. His love is holy love; His justice is loving justice; His mercy is righteous mercy. When we encounter His discipline, we are not meeting a different God but the same loving Father who refuses to let sin destroy us.
The cross is the perfect intersection of these realities. There, justice demanded that sin be punished, and love provided the substitute. Mercy did not ignore righteousness; it satisfied it. Holiness and grace embraced each other on that hill. This means that every faithful expression of Christian life—whether evangelism, public service, or social care—must mirror that same wholeness. A church that preaches holiness without love becomes harsh; a church that preaches love without holiness becomes hollow. Faithful presence requires the harmony of truth and grace, justice and mercy, courage and compassion.
Practically, this wholeness expresses itself in three major arenas. In evangelism, we tell the truth about sin and salvation because love demands it. We do not manipulate or coerce; we speak with conviction and kindness. In caring for one another, we build communities marked by forgiveness, generosity, and hospitality—living demonstrations of what redeemed humanity looks like. And in public life, we pursue the welfare of our neighborhoods and nations. We pray for leaders, advocate for justice, protect life, and promote beauty, all while knowing that these efforts, though temporary, reflect the character of the eternal King.
This balance guards us from two equal and opposite errors. One is the temptation to baptize our politics with Bible verses and imagine that our nation’s success equals the kingdom’s advance. The other is the temptation to withdraw from the public square altogether, assuming that any engagement is a compromise. The gospel calls us to something better: to work for temporal good while bearing witness to eternal hope.
The early church understood this well. The Second-Century Epistle to Diognetus is an anonymous letter addressed to Diognetus, explaining what makes Christians unique within the Roman Empire. It describes Christians as those who “take part in everything as citizens, yet endure everything as foreigners; every land is their homeland, and every homeland a foreign land.” They lived for the world’s good while longing for a better one. Their allegiance to Christ made them the best neighbors Rome ever had.
That is what we are called to recover. We are exiles for the world’s sake—citizens of heaven sent into earthly cities. We honor our families and serve our nations not as ultimate ends but as spheres where the reign of Christ is displayed through love, truth, and mercy. To say “God, family, country” is too small; the gospel calls us higher. It teaches us to say, “God sovereign over all, Christ saving His people, and love working for the good of all.”
God sovereign over all,
Christ saving His people,
Love working for the good of all.
When the church lives this way—rooted in Scripture, confident in sovereignty, and radiant in love—the world around us gets a glimpse of the city that cannot be shaken, the kingdom that cannot be conquered, and the King whose justice and mercy will one day make all things new.
Selected Sources D. A. Carson, Christ and Culture Revisited; Bruce W. Winter, “Seek the Welfare of the City: 1 Peter’s Social Ethics”; Abraham Kuyper, Lectures on Calvinism; Oliver O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations; Tremper Longman III, Daniel; James Davison Hunter, To Change the World; Epistle to Diognetus (ch. 5–6).
I grew up in churches where an American flag stood on one side of the platform and a Christian flag on the other. For some, this seemed natural — a blending of civic identity and spiritual allegiance. But in hindsight, we must ask: was this arrangement helpful or confusing? In the season of current cultural volatility, we must ask: Did it clarify the unique mission of the church, or subtly suggest that God’s kingdom and America’s destiny were intertwined? Symbols can teach as much as sermons, and when the cross is set side by side with the flag, the danger arises that we may forget the distinction between what is temporal and what is eternal. It is precisely this confusion that prompts us to reexamine the biblical relationship between church and state.
The Bible makes clear that God has distinct purposes for both. The state exists by the sovereign hand of God to exercise the power of the sword. The power of the sword is to restrain evil and preserve order, while the church exists to proclaim the gospel and make disciples. A free state, like the USA, may aid the mission, but the mission never depends on it. In fact, history shows us that while freedom can provide opportunity, it often dulls gospel urgency, while persecution tends to sharpen it. Augustine, writing after the sack of Rome, reminded Christians that the “City of God” and the “City of Man” are fundamentally different. Earthly cities are shaped by love of self; the heavenly city by love of God. Nations may serve temporary purposes in God’s providence, but only the church belongs to eternity.
If the state has a God-given role, then what exactly is its purpose? Paul writes in Romans 13 that the governing authorities are “God’s servant for your good.” Peter echoes this by saying rulers are sent “to punish those who do evil and praise those who do good” (1 Pet. 2:14). Jeremiah instructed the exiles in Babylon to “seek the welfare of the city” (Jer. 29:7). Daniel exemplified this calling by serving faithfully in a pagan government while refusing to compromise his allegiance to God. Taken together, these passages remind us that the state is not ultimate, but it is real and serves a purpose. It is part of God’s common grace — temporal, limited, and accountable. Calvin called government “the most sacred, and by far the most honorable, of all the stations in mortal life” (Institutes 4.20), precisely because it restrains evil and preserves order in a fallen world.
This naturally raises the question of law. What are laws for? When man-run governments are working, laws are designed to protect and promote what God calls good. They safeguard life, defend the vulnerable, uphold property and family, and ensure justice in public life. Kuyper insisted that every sphere of life has its own God-given integrity, and the state’s responsibility is to secure the conditions in which those spheres — family, church, business, education — may flourish under God. Laws, then, are not instruments of salvation but of preservation. They cannot regenerate hearts. As Jesus clearly states, “unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). Legislation can restrain evil, but only the gospel can transform sinners. Christians, therefore, may labor for laws that reflect justice — protecting the unborn, defending conscience, resisting oppression — but they must never confuse legislative victories with the triumph of the kingdom.
Warning: when Christians begin to treat moral legislation as equivalent to gospel proclamation, we risk turning the church into a political action committee rather than the bride of Christ.
If the state is part of God’s temporal purposes, what then of the church? Jesus declared to Pilate, “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36). This is a clear and poignant statement by Christ. Christ came to purchase a kingdom, but not one of the world. The church exists as a kingdom of people from all tribes, tongues, and nations. They are called to embody Christ’s reign through proclamation, discipleship, and obedience (Matt. 28:18–20). Paul tells us that “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20), reorienting our deepest allegiance. John Piper captures the point well: “Christ’s kingdom is not of this world because it aims at saving sinners, not defeating armies. It changes hearts, not governments.” Whereas the state restrains sin externally, the church proclaims the gospel that transforms hearts. The two are not enemies, but their missions are distinct and should never be confused.
But if the church and state are distinct, what should Christians think of a free state? Is democracy a blessing? Certainly, Francis Schaeffer urged believers to defend liberty because without it, the platform for public witness shrinks. Freedom of speech, press, and assembly provides the church with the space to preach, publish, and gather without fear of persecution.
Rejoice: Christians in America can be thankful for the ability to open a Bible publicly, plant churches freely, and send missionaries abroad without government interference — gifts many brothers and sisters in history never knew.
Yet freedom is not ultimate. Piper warns that freedom often lulls us into complacency: “The real danger of America is not that we lose our freedom, but that we become so content with freedom and prosperity that we don’t treasure Christ.” History seems to bear this out. The underground church in China has flourished under persecution, while many Western churches languish under abundance. Freedom may help, but it can just as easily hinder.
This forces us to consider our rights more carefully. What do we do with the liberties that democracy gives us? Paul provides the model in 1 Corinthians 9. Although he had the right to financial support, he laid it down so that nothing would hinder the spread of the gospel. In the same way, Christians today may use their rights in defense of gospel proclamation, but we must also be willing to lay them down for the sake of Christ. The question is not merely what rights we can defend, but what rights we are willing to surrender for the advance of the gospel. Do we treasure freedom more than faithfulness, or will we echo Paul in saying, “I endure anything rather than put an obstacle in the way of the gospel of Christ” (1 Cor. 9:12)?
Warning: if we cling so tightly to our rights that we would rather compromise gospel proclamation or love than lose them, then we have turned liberty itself into an idol.
If this is true, how then should Christians live within their country? Withdrawal is not the answer. Jeremiah called the exiles to pray for Babylon’s good. Daniel modeled faithful presence in a corrupt court. Paul urged prayers for kings and rulers (1 Tim. 2:1–2). In every place and under every system, Christians are called to live for the good of their neighbors, which includes engagement in civic life. We may vote, serve, defend justice, and advocate for truth, but always with the reminder that these things are penultimate. The mission of the church is not the survival of democracy but the spread of God’s kingdom. Nations rise and fall; Christ’s kingdom endures forever.
Rejoice: Alongside our freedoms, Americans also enjoy numerous opportunities for education, work, and community involvement — platforms for witness and service that can be used for God’s glory. Gratitude for these blessings should lead not merely to national pride, but to faithful stewardship of what God has entrusted to us.
Still, two dangers press us. On the one hand, there is the idol of politics. Augustine, in the City of God, warned that earthly cities, even at their best, are ruled by a love of self, not a love of God. When Christians pledge supreme allegiance to a party or platform, they risk confusing the kingdom of God with the kingdoms of men. On the other hand, we must be careful of the idol of indifference. Schaeffer lamented that evangelical silence in cultural battles left a vacuum for secular ideologies. To abandon civic life entirely is to neglect the biblical call to love one’s neighbor and seek justice. Faithful Christian citizenship avoids both errors: it engages for the common good while remembering that Christ alone receives ultimate allegiance.
It is here that testimony becomes crucial. In times of turmoil, how do we hold fast to hope? One believer put it this way:
While seeking to love my neighbor and proclaim Christ, my thread is filled with post after post about cultural division, political turmoil, and acts of violence. Yes, I call murder evil. Yes, I grieve with widows and fatherless children. Yes, I am upset at the disunity, the corruption, the rhetoric across all sides. Yes, I struggle with raising my children in this climate. Yes, I am frustrated by violence, ideologies, and cultural chaos.
Yet, my hope still stands, and my convictions are unaltered, and my soul completely unshaken. Not because my side will win. Not because I have a guarantee of tomorrow. Not because I have a rock-solid plan. My hope is built on nothing less than Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Upon this alone will I stand.
All while I love my neighbor. All while I defend my family. All while I hold firm my confession and convictions to the end.
All while I display good citizenship. All while I pray and plead, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus.” All while I put myself out in service and proclamation — to the left, the right, the believer, the lost.
Why? There is no hope apart from Jesus!
This testimony captures the heart of Christian engagement: to live faithfully in the present age, seeking the good of our neighbors, while never forsaking the eternal mission of the church.
So what then is God’s design? The state exists to restrain evil and preserve order through laws that protect the vulnerable, promote justice, and safeguard liberty. The church exists to proclaim the gospel and make disciples, willing to use its freedoms for the gospel and, when necessary, to lay them down for the same. Freedom is a blessing, but not the foundation of our mission. Persecution may come, but it cannot crush the gospel. Therefore, we pray for our leaders, defend liberty where possible, and live as good citizens. But above all, we pledge our supreme allegiance to Christ, whose kingdom cannot be shaken. Our confession is simple yet unshakable: there is no hope apart from Him.
As the first beam of light danced into the house on a warm June morning, I finished up breakfast and my grandparent’s house and looked forward to yet another day of summer vacation. This buck-toothed, elementary schooler sat looking out the huge window that stretched the length of the living room. I had already changed into my daily attire — basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and above all…wristbands (I wore them everywhere: to school, to the mall, to church, to funerals…). Funny enough, as I looked out the window at the basketball court, I knew my daily schedule and what to expect that day:
9:00AM – Basketball
10:00AM – Basketball
11:00AM – Basketball
Noon – Lunch
1:00PM – Basketball
2:00PM – DuckTails, Talespin, Darkwing Duck
3:00PM – Basketball
4:00PM – Super Nintendo
5:00PM – Dinner
To be honest, I had a pretty predictable schedule that day. Or at least I thought so. As my mom walked into the room, and she must have noticed I was already dressed for basketball. She knew my intentions. Right around then, she uttered the most debilitating words I could think of: “David, before you go out and play basketball today, I want you to read for 1 hour!” I blinked. I thought to myself, “This must be a bad dream.” Reading? Reading is for school. Reading is for August through May. Reading isn’t for summer vacation. Not only reading, but reading for an hour? That’s 60 minutes more than I cared to read. The next hour was like being killed by paper cuts. Each minute dragged as if an anvil were attached to the minute hand as it struggled around the clock face. I stared at the words on the page, somehow knowing what each word meant but having no clue of the overall message of the book I held in my hand. Pure. Torture.
Me trying to read
You could say that I hated reading at that time in my life. Or maybe I didn’t hate reading itself — maybe I just hated what it kept me from (i.e. basketball). A lot of things have changed since then. I’m grateful those days are gone, as I’ve become an avid reader since. I’ve discovered the role of books in growing my mind, personality, and emotional health. Funny enough, now I have the inverse problem — instead of not wanting to read, I want to read all the time. And there are so many books — but how does one choose?
As I considered the number of books out there, I am reminded of the words of Thomas Brooks, a preacher in the 17th century. In weighing what books are important for someone to read, he made an overarching claim about what he considered two books every follower of Jesus should continually read and know with all their heart. Now, I’m sure you guessed one of them: the Bible. What might surprise you is the book he named second. He called this book, The Book of Providence. Now, some of you might read this and wonder, “Is that book still in print? I’ve never heard of it.” If you did not pick up on it, the clever Mr. Brooks is using a metaphor. When Brooks speaks of providence, he is referencing God’s care and order over the world, aligning every person, platypus, and particle just how he wants it in his grand design. In short, the God of the Bible is pictured as a grand conductor bringing exactly the symphony he wants out of the everyday circumstances of life. He is suggesting that as important as reading the Bible is, one must also learn to look at God’s providence in the everyday circumstances that surround us in light of what we read.
Providence Humbug
The pandemic and world uprisings of 2020 have certainly left their mark.
Maybe you hear the word providence and think it really doesn’t belong in times such as ours. Perhaps you think this idea that God controls all the details in our world has been cheapened by the events of the past 15 months, or even maybe the belief belonged to a time where people were more gullible. After all, we have seen countless die from COVID-19, hospitals filled to the brim, and unrivaled levels of political unrest in varying countries. One could easily come to the conclusion God has taken his fingers off of the pulse of this word. Or has He?
One thing you can say about the God of the Bible is that he loves to act in ways that people cannot see. In other words, he claims he providentially runs the world even when things are going south. Just look at what Jesus said in Matthew 24:
3 As he sat on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will these things be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” 4 And Jesus answered them, “See that no one leads you astray. 5 For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Christ,’ and they will lead many astray. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places. 8 All these are but the beginning of the birth pains.
Notice some of the things Jesus lists here: wars, rumors, of war, famines, natural disasters. That’s some pretty heavy stuff happening there. These are all events that would lead human beings to naturally fear and assume God’s control must be wavering. Yet, did you notice Jesus’s response? “See that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet…all these are but the beginning of the birth pains.” Let’s just note how absurd that sounds to human ears at first. If you look at all the ways human beings believe God should function, this blows them all out of the water. Jesus is reminding his disciples (and those who come after them) to maintain their confidence and walk with him even amid societal and economical chaos. It’s like Jesus does not even flinch. His underlying assumption? If He created the world, He certainly has no problem sustaining it (and human beings) on a day-to-day level.
That leads us to our next question: if He rules and reigns over the world, what gives with the last year and the absolute chaos that has come from the coronavirus? You’re telling me God ordained such a thing? According to Jesus, yes He did. But why?
Continuing with the music analogy, a friend and I have recently been writing and recording songs. It has been one of the most fun experiences I can remember as we bounce ideas and lines back and forth off one another. Now, I’m a little more experienced than her musically, so what happens is she often comes up with the song ideas and is really influential in the lyrical side of things. I, however, produce and write the musical parts. These include what instruments play and especially what harmonies are sung. What would shock people about writing harmonies is that they always don’t sound beautiful. In fact, if you sang four pitches together from any pop-song harmony and that’s all you sang, you’d probably cringe. It creates tension and dissonance in your ear. As I was teaching my friend how to write harmonies, I showed her how you look for the emotional part of each phrase to throw one of these harmonies in there, and then immediately release it. The result? Four notes that might sound hideous songs together, if immediately resolved to different notes, can sound beautiful and drive the emotions of someone listening to a song. That’s what tension in music does — it plays on your emotions. If there was ever a part of a country song that felt like it reached deep in your soul, I would almost guarantee you’ll find one of these harmonies. In many ways, you can see the parallel between dissonance in music and the way Jesus Christ brings dissonance through tragedy and change in our world. An isolated event that might seem heinous, when woven into his grand plan, can function in a way to bring growth and thriving to his people. John Calvin, a famous theologian from times past, put it like this: God can draw beautifully straight lines with crooked sticks.
So where to does this lead us? Is there any consolation we can have regarding the past year? Are there things we know God is doing to give us better confidence in these times? Yes. I think through God’s Word, we see three specific ways God has guaranteed to move that can give us confidence during these times.
Our Sanctification
When you hang around younger people as much as I do, you are not surprised to hear the same questions over and over again. One of the questions I get the most is, “What does God will for my life?” I think most reading this article can understand the heart behind such a question. Scanning the pages of Scripture, we never see a book that details “God’s Plan for (Your Name)’s Life,” as if God were giving us this ultra-defined instruction manual for how our life should go. However, to think the Bible cares nothing about the issue might be a little short-sighted. We actually get insight into God’s will for our life in 1 Thessalonians 4:
Finally, then, brothers, we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more. 2 For you know what instructions we gave you through the Lord Jesus. 3 For this is the will of God, your _________…
Oh, snap! If you just read that right, Paul is about to give God’s plan for the Christian. He says, “For this is the will of God…” I’m listening. What is the will of God?
3 For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; 4 that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, 5 not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God; 6 that no one transgress and wrong his brother in this matter, because the Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you beforehand and solemnly warned you. 7 For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness.
Sanctification. He lays out what this looks like: sexual integrity, self-control, caring for your neighbor, amongst other things. This is not just avoiding bad things, it is spreading goodness and kindness to the world around us. Are you disappointed? Were you hoping for something, you know, a little more…useful?
I think there is some inherent beauty in this statement for two reasons. Firstly, while most of us long for God to answer a particular request so that we can continue “in our path,” Paul reveals how God seeks to give us something better than that longing. God does not always care so much about giving us step-by-step directions as he cares about making us into a particular kind of people. What kind of people are these, you ask? The kind of people who will be equipped to thrive, flourish, and spread His steadfast love and gospel message to our fallen world, regardless of what we face. While we want God to equip us for a situation, He instead equips us for a lifetime. Secondly, Paul’s words show us that whatever circumstance we find ourselves in (poverty, sickness, cancer, persecutions, broken relationships), God is still able to bring this about in our lives.
How can we relate this to our current context? Obviously, some of us have lost jobs or a huge chunk of our income (that is my situation). Okay. Christ is still working for our sanctification. He is still equipping us to flourish even amid poverty. Amen. Some of us have lost loved ones. The touch of death has been a cold one, perhaps too familiar to some of us. Yet, Christ is still working for our sanctification, knowing that if we are in Him, we too will conquer the grave as He conquered the grave, never to die again. Through this pandemic, we see that God has not stopped running the world. He is showing us that moth and rust really do destroy, that the breath of our loved ones really does fade, that this world is not our home, and any attempt to lay down permanent roots is frivolous because it would be like painting and decorating your hotel room when you’re only there for the night.
Father’s Day represents a relatively new celebration that honors a role that has existed since the beginning of time. While Father’s Day may be an institution of human beings, the calling of fatherhood finds its foundation in its reflection of God himself. So if men are called to be a reflection of our God, we need to consider a simple description of Him.
The Bible describes God as triune, which means three-in-one (God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit). One of the persons of the Godhead is described as the Father, so have you ever wondered why men who have children inherit a name that mirrors their father? It may be understood that men, as fathers, are called to be a reflection of God. Another way to explain this reflection can be understood in how earthly fathers should interact with their children. In doing so, they mirror how God the Father interacts with his children. If this concept is true then we, as fathers, need to begin by looking at how the Bible describes God the Father for our cues on fatherhood.
God as Our Heavenly Father
The Bible describes God the Father in many ways. Some attributes only He holds as a transcendent being, but some characteristics are those that men should mirror or reflect towards their own children. Let’s examine some of them:
Protector: Psalm 68:4-6, “Sing to God, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides through the deserts; his name is the LORD; exult before him! Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is God in his holy habitation. God settles the solitary in a home; he leads out the prisoners to prosperity, but the rebellious dwell in a parched land.”
Here we see God described as one who protects for those who are vulnerable and are in need of security, like the fatherless or widow. Throughout the scriptures, God provides a place of refuge for those who need shelter and protection. Earthly fathers are called to mirror this attribute as a protector for their children.
Provider: Philippians 4:19, “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”
God, the owner of all things, is not a stingy God but one who uses all that He has to meet the needs of those He loves. There is never a moment where God the Father does not actively taking care of His children’s needs, so also an earthly father must be active in seeking to meet the needs (emotionally, physically, and spiritually) of their children.
Based on the above two attributes, you might think that we as a culture have this fatherhood thing down. I mean, numerous men spend a lot of energy making sure that their children are well provided for and protected. Men give a lot of time and effort to ensure that their children are safe and sustained. So, there is some truth to thinking that we, as a culture, have the role of fatherhood figured out.
But do we understand fatherhood to be only about provision and protection? Are these the only ways that we relate to God the Father to find joy and peace as His children? Yes, provision and protection are two significant aspects of fatherhood, but these two parts of fatherhood were only meant to be a road that leads to an even better destination in the calling of fatherhood.
But before we get to that better destination, do any concerns arise in your mind when thinking about children who are well cared for and have a sense of security? These are children who would never worry about a meal, having the necessities of life provided or spend too much time worrying about safety as they lay their head down at night, but is that all that God the Father offers us as his children? Is merely having a full belly, clothes on your back, and a sense of safety all that we need? Surely not!
If we think fathers are only providers and protectors, how are we any different from a caregiver at an orphanage? Now I know that may seem so harsh, but imagine a child in an orphanage who just was adopted, and even got an adoption certificate displaying their new family name. They never once had to worry about food or even the idea of being safe daily, but not once did they ever meet their new father. Not once did they get to hear his voice or feel the embrace of his arms. Would we consider that a successful adoption? No way! Deep inside, humans desire to spend time with our fathers and be known by them. We all know of stories in our communities where children had everything they needed materially but still struggled because their fathers never spent time with them or honestly knew their children.
A Road to a Better Place
I do not say these things to shame anyone or heap guilt upon the shoulders of any father. Instead, I want to call all fathers into something more, into something better. Fathers, we are invited into something grander than providing full bellies and a sense of security. We have been called to mirror the intimacy experienced with our Heavenly Father. So while provision and protection are necessary as part of being a father they are external roads that lead to the better inward destination of affection and understanding.
Affection and understanding are both aspects of our Heavenly Father, so let us look at a few passages of the Bible:
Understanding: Psalm 103:13-14, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame, he remembers that we are dust.”
God understands his children at a deep level and knows the very nature of their frame or their very core self. It is this understanding that elicits compassion in vs. 13. God, our Father, understands each of us at a deeper level than merely food and safety- he knows us personally.
Knowing: Exodus 2:25, “God saw the people of Israel and God knew.”
The people of Israel were in the midst of a real struggle, and it was not merely the oppression as slaves in Egypt, but thinking they were alone in this dark time. This shows us that a part of the aspect of God the Father is affection drawn from a deep understanding of his children in the daily struggle.
As a pastor, I have been in numerous conversations with people whose story goes something like this: “My father was a good man, he always provided for me, and I never felt threatened by him, but he did not know me. He did not know my likes, dislikes, fears, or struggles. We just kind of were together but never had an understanding of each other.” We live in an age where children are well cared for and safe, yet have never experienced such emotional brokenness. I believe this is in part due to fathers not allowing their affection for their children to grow out of an understanding of who their children indeed are. Fathers can know facts about their children like birthdays or eye color, but this is a far cry from knowing the joys and pains your children experience daily. This is more than a reminder but I believe this is a path forward where we can see our children begin to flourish with more than full bellies and safe homes. This path forward includes two missing but pivotal parts of fatherhood that all fathers can grow in: time and talk.
Time
The idea of time with your kids is not a novel concept, yet it is one of the most important ones to move into a better understanding of your kid’s real needs. Time is nothing more than being present with your children, whether that means laying on the carpet playing with your 5-year-old, or playing video games with your 12-year-old. The point of time is to be present with your child intentionally and consistently. Here is a great question to help you find those intentional and consistent times to be present in their lives: what do each of you like to do? After you get that answer, invite each other into those spaces. Some of my fondest memories of being with my father revolve around building things, hiking trails, and playing a sport. I may not remember every moment, but I knew he was present in my life, and it added a level of stability to my upbringing that mirrored my Heavenly Father in significant ways. Instead of just sitting there, each of you doing your own thing apart from the other, find ways to share time doing what one (or both) of you are already doing. Finish the deck outside, and spend time together doing it. But also make sure you put down the pen or hammer to pick up the game controller or Legos doing things they like to do too. A child needs to understand the constant presence and time with their earthly father so that they can realize these same truths one day about their Heavenly Father.
Talk
While being present is a massive part of earthly fathers mirroring our Heavenly Father, there is still one significant component to our role as fathers. We must begin to use this time for good conversations. Now, God has perfect knowledge of all his creation and nothing hidden from his eyes, so he does not have to search for the right questions to gain new information. We do!
The destination for all earthly fathers is sitting beside your child, asking the right questions to know and understand them more deeply. I know of many dads who seek to find out the details of a day and what things happened in it — I am one of those. However, we must also make sure to ask the more penetrating questions that get to core issues of fears, struggles, delights, and ultimately identity. Instead of merely asking, “what did you do today?, find ways to invite more penetrating questions. Here are some examples:
Where are the things you really enjoyed today, and why?
What did you struggle with today?
How did you react to a hard circumstance today?
Did you find yourself getting angry today, and what was it?
Was there anything you experienced today that was new and exciting, why?
Make it a habit as a father to know where your child finds joy and what causes them great fear. Spend intentional time engaging in the deeper waters of their hopes, dreams, likes, and dislikes. In doing so you are seeking to gain a better understanding of your child. We can not fully love as fathers until we know where to best apply the tender care of grace in our children’s lives. We cannot know best where to use the tender care of grace without more time spent in quality talking about deeper things.
Let me close by reminding us of the intimacy and love we experience with our Heavenly Father, who knows us well and meets us in our time of need. One of the greatest sections of scripture that teaches us that God knows us so well and meets our needs from this deep knowledge is Hebrews 4:14-16:
Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
This text shows that God became man to know us better but more importantly to provide salvation out of His deep love and sacrifice. May we seek to move down the road of fatherhood to the better destination of time and intentional talking. Only then will our children find it easier to flourish under the better care of our Heavenly Father.
What happens when you treat roads like destinations? You get the fatherhood of 95% of men – unsatisfying and painful. Yet, if we strive to use these as the paths alongside time and talking as God intended for us, then it will lead to life and flourishing for our children and fathers themselves.
Memories are precious things to me. Maybe you understand if you are the sentimental type as well. I remember one distinct time in college where a friend gave me a thank you note written on a napkin. Yep…still got it. Chances are if you’ve ever given me a note or a card, your message is sitting neatly in one of my memory boxes out there. All this to say – if a person gives me something, I likely will hold onto it for a while. This is even more true if someone gives me a piece of artwork. A few days ago, a friend of mine gave me the choice between two pieces of artwork he had drawn. He had decided to paint a portrait of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Knowing I was a huge fan and that I grew up watching it, he thoughtfully offered up a piece of artwork that I know took him a long time to create. From the moment he showed me, I was blown away! I loved this show growing up, and I could not believe he was thoughtful enough to give me that gift.
Artwork by Aidan Rodriguez (2020)
As I brought the piece of artwork home, I scanned it in greater detail. Sure enough, the artwork had the patented New York City moon in the background with Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo flexing in front of it. However, as I zoomed in, I noticed a little mark that you find on almost all pieces of artwork – the initials “AR” and the year 2020. Go ahead and look around your house – no matter what artwork you own, it will almost always have a distinguishing mark somewhere on the canvas. Have you ever wondered how ingenious a practice that is? No matter where a piece of artwork goes, it will never go unidentified. There in plain sight is a mark of ownership. That painting or drawing belonged to someone and was created by someone – even if it has now passed hands through the years. As long as it hangs on my wall, it will always I will never be able to escape that mark – whenever I see it, I will remember exactly who gave it to me and when I received it.
However, as I have contemplated the piece of artwork now framed in my bedroom, a much different mark came to mind – a much more notorious mark. The week before my friend gave me this piece of art, I had just had multiple conversations with different people at my church and in my community about the fears they had amongst the COVID-19 situation. Their specific fear? That the worldwide pandemic would usher in the end times and result in a time of great tribulation. If you have been around evangelical churches at all, you probably know what I’m talking about – the dreaded mark of the beast from Revelation 13. A few of the people I spoke with specifically referenced the talk of a microchip given to people during the vaccinations. The more I speak with people, the more I am beginning to hear this kind of language. So is there anything to the claim?
The Mark of the Beast and It’s Checkered Past
For some, the mark of the beast is one of the worst parts of the end times. For others, you might be wondering, “What’s that?!?” Before we look at the mark and if there is any relation to our current pandemic, let’s back that thang up and look at where the idea comes from:
Then I saw another beast rising out of the earth. It had two horns like a lamb, and it spoke like a dragon. It exercises all the authority of the first beast in its presence and makes the earth and its inhabitants worship the first beast, whose mortal wound was healed. It performs great signs, even making fire come down from heaven to earth in front of people, and by the signs that it is allowed to work in the presence of the beast it deceives those who dwell on earth, telling them to make an image for the beast that was wounded by the sword and yet lived. And it was allowed to give breath to the image of the beast, so that the image of the beast might even speak and might cause those who would not worship the image of the beast to be slain. Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name. This calls for wisdom: let the one who has understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man, and his number is 666. (Revelation 13:11-18)
Above you will see a quote from the book of Revelation. If you are not familiar with a Bible, that is the very last book of the Bible. If you have never read it, it is the book of the Bible that most resembles what our culture would call a comic book or science fiction because of its vivid imagery. John, one of Jesus’ disciples, wrote the book of Revelation. It contains some of the most spectacular displays of visual imagery in all the Bible. In this part of the book, we read of the beast (some Satanic figure) who “causes all…to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark…” Now the tricky part about this passage (and the book of Revelation as a whole) is that it has been interpreted so many different ways over the years. The newest and most popular interpretation in the American Bible Belt is that this mark is some physical marking/technology (credit cards, microchips, tattoos, armband, bitcoin, etc.) that everyone will receive in the end times. The popularity of this view undoubtedly has to do with recent movies and the popularity in the 1990’s of the Left Behind series. Countless churches have broadcasted these movies to their members – from Teenagers all the way to Seniors. This is the understanding most evangelicals have regarding the mark of the beast, which vicariously leads to countless Facebook posts that give “proof” that the mark of the beast is on the horizon.
But hold your horses. Is that really what Revelation means by the mark of the beast? Firstly, let’s take a look and see if there are any legitimate reasons to see that in our present world. Secondly, and maybe even more importantly, let’ ask why is this such a fascination in mainstream Christian culture?
Revelation: The Book Where Everyone Gets a Mark
There are a couple glaring holes in the abundance of Facebook posts about the mark of the beast being the next microchip, cryptocurrency, or vaccine on the market. The first problem is that people often do not read the verse in its entirety.
Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is,the name of the beast or the number of its name.
Notice what John does here. He introduces the idea of a mark on the right hand or the forehead. After that, he mentions how this mark is necessary to buy and sell goods. But notice what comes next in the verse. He notes “the mark…[COMMA], that is, the name of the beast…” Commas are important. If you and your spouse are sitting on the couch together around 4:00PM, there’s a difference between you saying, “Hey, let’s make a little Italian, baby” and “Hey, let’s make a little Italian baby.” The comma in the passage above shows that John clarifies what this mark is: the mark is actually a name.
The second and more dangerous problem is mainstream Christianity’s view misunderstands the book of Revelation as a whole. What do I mean? If you read the entire book, the beast isn’t the only one marking people. In fact, he’s not even the first to mark his people. The truth: every single person in Revelation has something on their foreheads. Let’s take a look at a couple examples:
Do not harm the earth or the sea or the trees, until we have sealed the servants of our God on their foreheads. (Revelation 7:3)
They were told not to harm the grass of the earth or any green plant or any tree, but only those people who do not have the seal of God on their foreheads. (Revelation 9:4)
Then I looked, and behold, on Mount Zion, stood the Lamb, and with him 144,000 who had his name and his Father’s name written on their foreheads. (Revelation 14:1)
They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. (Revelation 22:4)
The first interesting thing to note: look at the multiple places where this mark is referenced. With all the attention Revelation gives to God marking his people on their foreheads with his name, why the heck have we likely never heard about the above passages? Why do you hear debates on what physical mark of the beast and not the mark of God? It appears that the beast has written the name of his people on their foreheads to imitate God, who has written the name of his people on their foreheads.
You will notice this kind of imitation happens throughout the book. Satan routinely tries to do the same things God does. The only problem? He sucks at it. He can’t quite do it because he’s not God. Let’s take a look at some of the ways he does it:
God is a Holy Trinity (Father, Son, Spirit) vs. Satan tries to make an unholy trinity (the false prophet, the beast, the devil)
God has a wife (19:6-10) vs. Satan, who has a prostitute (Revelation 17)
God marks his people with a seal on their foreheads (Revelation 14:1) vs. Satan, who marks his people on their foreheads (Revelation 13:11-18)
God is a 7 vs. Satan thinks he’s a 7, but he’s only a 6. In fact, he’ll only and forever be a 6 (666 – Revelation 13:3)
God has a Lamb who actually was slain, but truly comes back to life (Revelation 5:5-7) vs. Satan who has a dragon that appeared to be slain, but its wound is healed (Revelation 13:1-3)
Notice everything listed in the above section. Everything God does, Satan tries to imitate. Everything Satan does, God does better. The only problem is that each imitation is a cheap knock-off. I mean, which one is better – a wife or a prostitute? One is with you because she loves you and is committed to you. The other is with you because you pay her. One will remember your birthday, the other won’t care if you exist when she leaves your room.
So what does this tell us about the mark in the book of Revelation? The mark (or seal) on the forehead is a mark of ownership and devotion. It’s a way of saying, “Who do you love and who do you belong to?” In other words, those who belong to God are marked by him or sealed by him. God’s people are devoted to Him despite any sufferings they might incur (which makes these passages extremely encouraging if you think about it). However, the beast has his people as well. Those who do not repent and throw themselves on the mercy of Christ, they do not have the mark of God on them. They have a much different mark. They are marked, even if they don’t realize they’re marked. What Revelation is doing is anticipating the great and final judgment, sorting out humanity into two sides: those who belong to Christ and those who do not.
Is the mark of the beast a literal marking or a piece of technology? Although popular opinion says yes, I would respectfully disagree. I don’t think it was going to be some microchip hidden in a vaccine, I don’t think it will be a credit card embedded in an arm, or really any other fanciful Facebook post. ‘Why?’ you might ask? Honestly, while the book of Revelation describes a literal second coming and a literal end of history, it does so in a way that often uses vivid metaphors to attempt to describe the indescribable. I do not think these are literal marks a person can see on the skin. Whenever Christ does come back, I don’t think humanity will be divided between those who have God’s literal tattoo on their forehead or Satan’s literal tattoo on their forehead/arm.
What Can We Learn From This?
Perhaps yet a better question is to consider why these speculations exist and what it reveals about us as human beings. Why, when disasters happen or new technology is invented, does the human mind run to these? Let me make a couple observations, but before I do, please know I am not saying all these are true for every person reading this. Some of these observations will characterize this person, others will characterize that person.
Observation #1 – The craze over the mark of the beast demonstrates how movies have a huge impact on the way we understand the world
I could be wrong, but I have a hypothesis about the popularity of where this comes from in mainstream Christianity. I would wager the majority of this speculation finds its origin in the movies and media people have consumed. If you did not have the Left Behind series of the 1990s and the teaching that spawned from that series, I’m not sure this struggle would be as real as it is for some.
Observation #2 – The craze over the mark of the beast demonstrates how evangelicals have a void of deep and applicable teaching that will help us understand our Bibles
I think the fear of the mark of the beast is a culmination of an increasing trend in evangelical churches over the last 100 years. As I heard someone say the other day, “Evangelicals have two speeds when reading the Bible: 1) things necessary for salvation, and 2) not important.” Unfortunately, many churches have unofficially adopted this reasoning. When was the last time we heard deep and applicable teaching regarding the Lord’s Supper, the Atonement of Christ, how to read Leviticus, how Revelation relates to Exodus, etc? If our church is only teaching “Healthy Marriages,” “Good Finance,” “Right Character,” “Kindness,” – all of which are good things – then we can expect confusion when we open our Bibles. We have become a proverbial 30-year old taking spoonfuls of spiritual Gerber from devotionals and teachers who do not stretch and challenge us. You might have a church of 50, 500, or 5,000. But think about it: if 90% of us in each situation don’t enjoy, meditate, or read the Bible except on a shallow level, has that really gotten us anywhere? This is especially true about the book of Revelation. I think most of us unknowingly take what we’ve heard about Revelation in our right hand hand and news headlines in our left, matching them up to see the future. That kind of reading will never get us anywhere. You can even tell something is amiss, because instead of our reading leading us to confidence (which is one of the purposes of Revelation — to show that no matter what, God’s people will overcome because Christ will overcome), it leads many to anxiety.
Observation #3 – The craze over the mark of the beast demonstrates it’s natural for fallen human beings to fear
When some people fear the potential of the mark of the beast, I think it shows a
Needless to say, I would not be looking forward to a punch in the mouth from Iron Mike
Needless to say I would be moderately nervous about a punch from Iron Mike
genuine fear. In this case, it is a fear of pain and suffering that is part of being a fallen human being. For example, I don’t want to get punched in the mouth by Mike Tyson. If I know I’m getting punched at 10:00AM tomorrow by Iron Mike, around 9:55AM I’m going to be a little nervous. I know he punches so hard that my lip will probably wrap around my face. In the same way, if a Christian knows suffering is coming, they do not necessarily look forward to it. They know it’s going to hurt. But their overwhelming trust will cause any anxiety to be overcome because they know any suffering is temporary and will be ultimately redeemed by Jesus Christ. However, that’s not the whole story. I think perhaps the biggest reason for the craze over the mark of the beast is…
Observation #4 –The craze over the mark of the beast demonstrates a hidden idol in the hearts of evangelicals: worldly comfort.
Out of all the observations, I think this one is the most widespread. It is more than the natural fear in observation #3. As evangelicals, especially in America, we struggle with the idol of comfort and riches more than we ever give ourselves credit for. I think one part of this mark of the beast passage really scares a lot of people: “Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name.” Undoubtedly in all this, there is probably a hidden affection for worldly comforts that many do not realize is there. But that is the great message of Revelation: first comes suffering, and that suffering is real. But for those who endure comes a greater pleasure and treasure than we could ever imagine. Behind many of our Facebook posts is a desire to have our cake in this life and the next. Many of us “trust” the Lord, but you know what we also trust? Our mutual funds. Our pension. Our nice car. Our ideas for a future. Security is not a bad thing. We are creatures who long for security and hunt for it for it everywhere. The only problem comes when we seek security from a life that is so fragile. That’s like trying to build a bridge out of toothpicks. It might be possible, but a great collapse will come when you walk on it. And yet we have a gracious God who calls us to abandon these false idols that will only ever let us down on the day we really need them.
Revelation helps us pull back the curtain of this life to show us what is really at stake. It shows us how suicidal it is to live our lives for the present when we know how things will end. The whole point of the mark of the beast is actually to give Christians comfort. They will not receive some “accidental marking” by getting a microchip only to find out tomorrow, “Oh no! It’s the mark of the beast!” No. The point of the mark of the beast is to highlight God’s marking his people. If he has saved us, he will hold us to the very end. That holding might come by rescuing us from hidden idols like worldly comfort, but it also might come by holding us through oppression because the world knows who we belong to. Either way, our Savior will come and we will be rescued.
So is there any relation between our current COVID-19 crisis and the End Times in general? Of course there is! But in one sense it is just like every other natural disaster — hurricanes, tornadoes, financial crashes, plagues. All of these are anticipating a judgment to come. It’s funny that Christians were asking the same questions during plagues of the past. However, here’s what we do know: we are closer now to the second coming of Christ than we have ever been. If he does not come today, we will be closer tomorrow than we have ever been. If he waits and 1,000 years from now he has still not come, then 3020 will be closer yet to his coming. Until then, we wait and we do his work of loving and sharing the gospel — not with anxiety, but with confidence in our Lord and the mission he has given us until our death or his return.
College was a special time for me. I still remember the day when my Dad dropped me off and drove away. It was a hard day for both of us, but especially for him. I had never lived on my own before and had very little clue about what life for the next few years held for me. In those years, I would find out much about myself, as well as how to function without the help of my parents. To be honest, those years were some of the best years of my life. Many friendships developed, and a few of them I keep track of today. One particular friendship near and dear to me was my college roommate. We were very close – like brothers from another mother. At one point, we had lived together for almost two years, sharing the same 15’x15’ dorm.
I remember one night, we were both heading for bed and were brushing our teeth. Something came over me at the moment as I looked at him in the mirror with toothpaste running down my cheek – “are you going to take your contacts out?” He looks at me, slightly puzzled, and says with a smirk, “when do you ever remember me taking out or putting in contacts?” I thought about it for a second, and then said, “Well, I don’t.” In fact, there was no contact solution, contact case, or any sign of contacts that have ever been in our room. He didn’t wear glasses, and he never squinted in class. He had perfect vision. But for some reason, I had been convinced all along that he wore contacts.
It’s funny how well you think you know someone only to realize that there is so much you don’t know. In extreme cases, a person can think they know someone and be completely wrong about them in the first place. Lots of dating relationships have ended with one party screaming (or worse, texting🙁) the other party saying, “well now I know the real you!”
The Secret Life of Being Well Known
Knowing other people can be a tricky thing. But being well know can be even trickier. Living in 21st century America, it doesn’t take long to realize the paradox that exists in most of us. Seemingly all of us have a desire to be known. Think of the whole social media phenomenon. We have followers. We have groups. We have pictures of our meals. We have the selfies where we get to take pictures of ourselves in action. We are people who want people to know us. Yet, on the other hand, there is an aspect of our lives that human beings seem desperate to hide. We post the beautiful cake we made on Instagram, but not the three cakes we ruined in the process of making that one. We post our best pictures, not the ones that make it look like we have a double chin. We don’t post our fights and failures. We post the medals and success stories. That leads us to our present time – we’ve never been more well known while being radically unknown at the same time.
While our culture frantically looks for ways they can be known, yet live in secrecy, what if I told you the Christian life is radically different? I know, I know – there are many professed Christians out there who live isolated lives, not knowing others and settling for the hashtag life of the world around us. They emphasize their own walk with Jesus. But is that really the best life? Is that really how our lives were designed to be lived?
All About Me, Or All About Them?
If you grew up within churches, especially if you are in the South, one of the phrases your ears have heard over and over again is a personal walk with Jesus. Growing up in this culture, one of the things I’ve noticed is the unsaid rule of not pushing in too closely to those in your church. Living in South Georgia, this culture and mindset are alive and well. “That’s between me and Jesus!” can often be the slogan.
But is it? Whatever “it” is – is “it” really just between you and Jesus?
Before moving on, I think it is important to look at the way most religions in the world work. Most religions function by emphasizing one of two things: 1) the individual believer, or, 2) the “congregation” as a whole. Let’s give two quick examples that show us the extremes of each of these:
New Ageism: As American as Apple Pie
New Ageism (almost 100% individual) – New Ageism is one of those religions that has a particularly American flavor. Usually associated with meditation, harnessing the power of crystals, and feeling the spiritual life from within, this religion has found increasing popularity in American culture. This is mostly because New Ageism makes no claims on a lifestyle one should or should not live. To many, that seems as American as apple pie. It is a religion by your own rules. It allows a person to feel spiritual while not being tied to any moral standards. In the end, New Ageism, in some sense, is about the individual at the end of the day.
Roman Catholicism (almost 100% corporate) – While you might hear some of the same terms in Roman Catholicism that you hear in Christianity (“Jesus,” “God,” “salvation”), there are some things you will rarely (if ever) hear about in a Mass gathering. One of those is a personal relationship with Jesus. Why is that? Because Roman Catholicism, while referencing the individual believer now and again, is almost completely about the Roman Catholic Church. That is where the spotlight always shines. You need to go to the Church for salvation. You need to go to the Church for grace through the sacraments. Whether in life or death, you need the Church as a whole all of the time. Therefore, you cannot live a faithful life and find salvation apart from coming to Mass. Indeed, the Catholic Church, in some sense, is about the Catholic Church at the end of the day.
Almost any religion you find will either venture off into one of these two extremes. Either it is all about the individual, or it is all about the congregation as a whole. But which of these does Christianity fall into?
Most evangelicals would probably think it falls into the first category – 100% individual. After all, don’t we need a personalrelationship with Jesus? After all, that is what “gets us to heaven,” right?
Evangelicals going as fast as they can in the opposite direction, not seeing the pitfalls of it
One of the things I’ve noticed about evangelicals as a whole is we certainly can be extreme people. We emphasize certain aspects of our faith until blue in the face. For instance, we evangelicals know we aren’t Catholic. Catholicism is all about the Catholic Church. So what we do is peel out in the opposite direction and make it all about a personal relationship with Jesus. But where has that gotten us? I would have a tough time finding someone who thought Christianity in American is in a good place. We’re driving in the opposite direction as fast as we can, but the thing we might not realize is that we are driving that Chevy right off the cliff.
100% of Two Things
This is where, as Christians, we must turn to the Bible for clues. Is Christianity almost 100% personal or 100% corporate? Let’s list a few verses
Individual
Mark 1:14-15 – Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”
Romans 10:13 – “For whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Acts 2:37-38 – Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.
If you believed Christianity was merely something individual, you would feel great about the above verses. These verses – all popular ones many grew up hearing – demonstrate for Christianity to be Christianity, there must be an emphasis on a personal relationship with God. Hence in the Mark passage above, Jesus’s call to the people to personally repent (i.e. “repent and believe in the gospel”). The same situation occurs in Romans 10, although significant baggage exists with these verses. Most Christians have heard Romans 10:13 in regards to the altar call – a borderline sacrament in Southern religion. However, this is not what Paul is talking about. He is not referring to an audible, one-time call at the end of a church service. Paul is referring to a life-long act of turning from sin and trusting in Christ. But notice, that call is personal. It is something the individual must do. Even the first sermon ever preached after Jesus rose from the dead had a personal aspect to it. The people who heard Peter preaching in Acts 2 asked, “what shall we do to be saved?” Notice what Peter said – he put repentance in the hands of each individual. He calls each one to “repent and be baptized.”
However, as we will see, that is not the whole story. For Christianity to truly be Christianity, it cannot be only personal. See how some of these verses break the mold of individualistic faith:
Corporate
1 Corinthians 12:4-7 – Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.
Ephesians 4:1-3 – I, therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
Galatians 6:1-2 – Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.
In Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, he mentions how God has given each individual a spiritual gift if they have been born again. But notice what he says here in chapter 12 about the purpose of that gift; a person is to exercise that gift for the common good. Whatever spiritual gifts are, they are predominantly for other people. That is far from a Jesus-and-me view of the faith.
Still, yet more, the Galatians passage highlights an important role in the life of Christians – walking with one another through sins and struggles. Paul tells them that if anyone has been caught in a transgression (which is, ohhhh, everyone in their life as a Christian from time-to-time), it is the job of the members of the church to help them. They are to “bear one another’s burdens.” That is quite a job. That is one of the reasons God established his church here on earth: they are a community of believers who help one-another defeat the stranglehold sin has on their lives. This will be a controversial line, so I will clarify it after I say it: that means we can’t merely pray for others and trust God to overcome certain sins. Notice the fifth word in that phrase: merely. I’m not saying a person shouldn’t pray. I’m not saying a person should not trust God. I am saying that, when God gives us a primary tool for fighting sin (the local congregation), we can’t pretend like he didn’t give it and just start praying for deliverance as if that is the only thing we are to do. No way – pray…but do your other job, too! Get your hands dirty in their life, and pray for the humility to let others do the same in your own life in your fight with sin.
From what we saw above, Christianity must emphasize the individual, but it can never do so without simultaneously emphasizing the congregation. Christianity finds itself in an odd place when compared to man-made religions like Buddhism, Roman Catholicism, and Hinduism. It is both 100% individual and 100% corporate. In this sense, the Christian life must involve the individual and others for it to be uniquely Christian. If you de-emphasize one, you lose the essence of the faith. You might be wondering at this point: is this where we find ourselves in our current church culture? Evangelicals have emphasized the personal relationship with Jesus to such a point that we have been making out with a religion very different from Christianity. Her voice sounds like Christianity from afar (talking about Jesus, “breaking chains,” and connecting people to God) but in reality, it is more like New Ageism with Christianized lipstick.
Questions, Questions, Questions…
Assuming most of those reading this article will struggle more with involving other church members in their lives, what can do about improving in that area? Maybe the real questions are as follows: 1) How can we allow ourselves to be known? 2) How can we know others? Let’s take a brief look at the first question, and then an elongated answer for the second question.
So how can I allow myself to be known? Whew! Isn’t that hard? There is something in us that just wants to hide at the idea of someone knowing parts of us that we would never want to reveal. Yet, that is part of the Christian life. There is unbelievable freedom in that. I think the only way for this to happen is for the gospel to absorb into the fibers of our lives. This is why we must read the Bible (again, not just devotionals about the Bible), meditate on the Bible, pray for a love for the Bible, pray throughout our day, and utterly build our life on the Savior. It must be a day-to-day thing. When this happens, the Christian begins to believe something they have already known. What is it? It’s the fact that, on the cross, Jesus said worse things about us and our sin than anyone else ever could. You might read that and think, how is that helpful David? Stay with me here: if the Father – who knew all the secrets of my heart, all the wicked things my hands have done, and all the wicked things I will act on tomorrow – looks on me and does not condemn me because of Jesus’s crosswork, I suddenly become a lot less concerned if others think I’m a freak because I struggle with ________ sin. There’s nothing new under the sun, and that includes the sins I fight. I’m not a freak, I am normal in the worst kind of way until Jesus returns. And so are you.
The second question, how can we know others? is a little more tricky. Yet, there is a particular answer: questions, questions, questions. Knowing others, in one sense, is all about questions. It’s about asking, not just questions, but the right kind of questions. Let me give some examples below, first of some not-so-good questions and then some questions that are examples of good questions:
Stinky Questions that Usually Lead to Nowhere
How are you?
What’s going on?
What’s new in your life?
How’s your week been going?
How’s your marriage?
There are two things you might notice about these questions. The first: these questions are the go-to questions of most churchgoers. If you walk into a church gathering on a given week, you will undoubtedly be asked one or all of these. The second thing you will notice about them: they can all be answered in one or two words. Let’s go down the potential answer for all five: Good. Not much. Same ‘ole. Good. Pretty good. Here lies the main problem with these questions – one can easily evade them or answer them in a shallow fashion just out of habit.
So if these questions don’t cut the mustard, which ones do? Let’s take a look at some examples:
Questions that Help You Minister to Others
Questions regarding your week
What was the worst part of your week? (Follow up question: And why’s that?)
What was the best part of your week? (Follow up question: And why’s that?)
Questions regarding relationships
What has been the greatest struggle with your wife/husband?
How have you encouraged your spouse recently? (Follow up question: What’s something your spouse has done recently that has encouraged you?)
What’s been the hardest part about parenting _______ recently?
What specific ways have you seen your singleness as a gift recently?
What specific ways has your singleness been a struggle recently?
Questions about emotions
Where have you been tempted to doubt the Lord’s goodness or power recently?
What is something that has made your heart for the Lord leap recently?
Questions about their spiritual pulse
If you had to use three words to describe your alone time with the Lord in the past two weeks, what would those three words be?
What is one key thing the Lord has taught you through his Word during the last week?
What are some things you have been praying for recently and haven’t seen?
What are some things you have been praying for and you have seen the Lord grant?
Who was the last person you got to share the gospel with? (Follow up question: How did it go?)
What sins have you been struggling with the most this past week? (Follow up question: In what actions did you see them come out in your behavior?)
Where have you seen growth in your fight against sin recently?
What do you notice about some of these questions? Most importantly, you can’t answer them without thinking. This is where the job of you, the congregation member, becomes so important. Listen for clues as to how the person is doing. This will tip you off on how to pray for them, how to speak the promises of God to them, and ultimately how to continue to walk with them through the struggles of life.
Caring for people in a truly Christian way is not something we are naturally good at. We often avoid the mess, afraid of what others will think of us if we begin to pry a little. But with the Lord’s help, he will use us in their lives just as he will one day use someone else in your life. Until then, arm yourself with these two things: good questions and a listening ear.
Do you remember taking those 20 to 50 question tests that help you determine your spiritual gift, and then looking on the ministry spreadsheet for areas where you could exercise your newly identified gift? It was great if you had the gift of teaching, then there were multiple options in Sunday School for you to use your gift. If you had the gift of hospitality, then you certainly need to serve on the social events team. Or maybe if you had the gift of mercy, you were perfect for the shut-in visitation team. No matter what the test revealed, your spiritual gift was there was going to be a spot for you to fill unless, of course, your spiritual gift was sarcasm. These tests and the ministry spreadsheet were helpful to allow you to begin to discern where you might be able to serve in the numerous programs that churches tend to offer. But what happens when the programs stop or the church no longer gathers on Sunday, or Wednesday, or any time really? Does this mean you are no longer able to use your gifting for the church, or does it mean maybe we need to re-examine God’s intention for gifting us as the church?
No Spreadsheet Required
During this period of a global pandemic, we have been allowed to clarify a lot of things: where are we wasting time in our days? What do we truly value and need? What is the church? Yet, there is more clarity that can be brought to what we deem as normal in the life of the church. One of the most significant categories of thinking that we must allow to be shaped is our understanding of spiritual gifts. If we tend to view our spiritual gift as something related merely to a ministry spreadsheet, then we will tend to encounter several problems, which include:
We minimize the use of our spiritual gifts to a location like the church facility.
We reduce the power of our spiritual gifts to be something only meant for programs.
We wrongly feel a burden for not using our gifts during seasons of isolation (sickness, work-related travel, or even now — global pandemics
However, if we can take a brief survey of the Bible’s explanation of spiritual gifts, we can begin to see the gift we have been given to serve the church in a brighter light. After seeing the gifts more clearly, we will understand how to show those gifts both while we gather and even more now that we’re scattered.
In 1 Corinthians 12, we see Paul speaking about understanding the gifts correctly, and he begins in verse 4-7 explaining gifts this way:
“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” (emphasis added)
One of the truths we need to understand here is that God, the Father, is the one who empowers all the services. The services are meant to take place in the body of Christ. And the Holy Spirit is the one who distributes gifts to each. All three persons of the Godhead are active in a person’s use of their spiritual gifts. Why would Paul want the church at Corinth to understand the gifts are given by our Triune God (meaning he’s three persons)?
Well, one reason is that Paul is trying to help us see that our spiritual gifting is an aspect of being unified to God himself. Every follower of Jesus Christ is placed in the body of Christ for a specific purpose, as we read above “for the common good.” This means several things: the fact that everyone is gifted if they have God’s Spirit in them, and that the gift is not dependent on a building but a people — the people of God. One implication for us right now is that if we think our spiritual gifts are intended only to be used when we are at a church facility, we have unknowingly minimized God to a building. Now, I do not think any of us would say this, but if we only practice our gifts when we gather, then we have quarantined God to a specific location.
Instead, may we understand that our gifting is a result of our connection between God and his people, which means no matter our place in a city or in the globe, we are called to love others in the Body of Christ for their common good. God is not confined by any geographic location, and neither are we when it comes to using our spiritual gifts for the common good of the Body of Christ.
Next, look at Paul’s words to the letter of Romans, where we read in Romans 1:11-12 these words;
“For I long to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to strengthen you— that is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine.”
Paul here is not saying that he wants to give them a gift, but instead they may be strengthened in their faith by his gift. Essentially, he is saying, “I long to be with you that I may use my gift to strengthen your faith.” Paul is helping them to understand a significant point of the purpose of spiritual gifts, which is that they are given to strengthen the faith of other believers. This is way different than what we think. That means they are not necessarily for the purpose of running programs of your church. Don’t get me wrong, I know we need some idea of structure and programs within the church to keep our ministries organized and on track. But, I am afraid if we immediately correlate our spiritual gifting to filling in a hole in a ministry spreadsheet, we will reduce the power of the gifts to nothing more than running the church programs. I don’t know about you, but in my own mind, I think, “Oh God, forgive us for thinking so little about the power of the gifts of grace we have been given.”
The Purposes of Our Gifts
Paul shows us the primary purpose of gifts within the body of Christ is, 1) to strengthen one another’s faith in the certainty of our great God, and, 2) to prove the promises he has given us through Jesus Christ. God, in His kindness, has called us the church to come alongside each other for one key role – to strengthen each other’s faith. The evidence of using our gifts well is not whether we have a well-run program, but if the people around us are growing in their trust and obedience to the Lord. God desires a people who believe in him, which will be seen in love for Him, and an ever-increasing faith in His promises. When we link our gifts to just running programs in the church ministry, we, unfortunately, limit the power of our gifts. May we see God’s design with gifts is to strengthen the faith of others so that others in turn can see God’s influence reaches far beyond the church’s programs.
Finally, we need to understand the implications of the two above statements being correct. What does it mean for using our gifts during seasons of isolation? If we believe the gospel, that a holy God has saved a people from the wrath they deserve by substituting his son to take their place, that he calls us by faith to become co-laborers with him, and we think that is a once-a-week thing, have we not settled for less? Knowing that our God is not limited by any geographical location or particular programs frees us to believe that our gifting is connected to a people for the common good of strengthening their faith in God’s great promises. This simply means that any burden that you — the nursery worker, the bulletin folder, or the greeter — are feeling during this season of isolation from the gathering may be illuminating a needed adjustment in your practice of spiritual gifts. You may be settling for something good when God has called you to experience and be so much more.
Parting Recommendations
We are given the Spirit as a seal and guarantee of our inheritance as co-heirs with Christ and also are given specific gifts for the strengthening of other’s faith. There is no more significant time than right now that we need to use our gifts for the building up of the faith of the body of Christ. Today you have been called as part of God’s eternal purpose as he is making a people for himself. These people trust, love, and worship him — especially when all else looks hopeless. So in closing, let me offer a few suggestions on how to continue to exercise your spiritual gifts for the common good of your church:
Never underestimate the importance of prayer! I know, we all say we pray for each other, but make intentional efforts to pray specific promises of God over the people in your local church. Go through a page of your church directory every day and then give them a call, text or email letting them know the exact promise you prayed for them.
Take time to use your skills, whether that is writing, baking, singing, or creatively making a craft and send it to the people of your church. In doing this, you are reminding others that God has not forgotten them, and you simply are a vessel in the hands of our creative God to show them this.
Do not underestimate the ministry of listening. Spend time listening well — not interrupting to talk about yourself or give your thoughts — but listening well. You will help them to acknowledge the struggle they are feeling and will know more specifically how to encourage them as well. Call a fellow church member and ask questions that can’t be answered with a yes-or-no:
“What is your greatest struggle during this season?”
“How has God shown Himself mighty through this?”
“What emotions are you wrestling with during all this?”
Remember, our God is not limited by a place or a program, but He is mighty to use His people to strengthen the faith of others in his unshakable promises. May we all seek to be used for others during this season of isolation, and in doing so, build up great anticipation for the day when we do get to gather again as God’s people, and more importantly, for the return of our great God and king. Grace and peace in Christ Jesus to you all.
Have you ever noticed how selective our memories are? Some of the most impactful moments of our lives will not even show up as a blip on the radar. However, sometimes the most random occurrences are those you will never forget. To this day some of my clearest memories come from my elementary years. Of course, there is a lot of reasons to remember some of it. I was, after all, a Dream Lake Dragon. Our
classrooms were old airplane hangers from whenever the property functioned as an airport. Our playground was by far the coolest (and maybe least safe) playground I’ve ever seen in my life – a humongous pirate ship made out of monster truck tires and splintered wood, tire fortresses, and an abundance of rope swings. However, one memory sticks out from each year: day #180.
Any teacher will tell you about day #180. It’s also known as the last day of school. I remember anticipating the last bell as the whole class would count down from 10 seconds and sprint out the door. What did this newfound freedom mean for me? Well for the next 3 months, here’s what my schedule looked like most days:
8:00AM-11:00AM – Basketball
11:00AM-2:00PM – Video Games
2:00PM-5:00PM – Hang out with friends
5:00PM-7:00PM – Basketball
7:00PM-9:00PM – TV and Video Games
Those were some productive days, right? I think everyone who has ever experienced a summer vacation knows what I’ m talking about. Usually, they are times of prolonged laziness where stay up way too late and get up even later. Looking back on it, those summers were an odd time of life.
What might be even odder is the current period in which we all live. Not in the last 100 years has society all over the world come to a grinding halt in so many ways. Many parents find themselves at home not working. Many kids just got the word that school has officially been canceled in their area for the rest of the year. It is like all of us have entered this summer vacation-like dream, and still worse, none of us knows when it will end.
I think if many of us are honest, times like our present ones bring out the worst in us. If we look at our unofficial daily agenda, it looks something like this:
Facebook – check. Instagram – check. Pinterest – check. TV – Check. Facebook again – check. And again – check. And again – check. Wind down with some TV – check. Sleep.
Maybe I’m in a boat by myself, but when I see that, I don’t want my life to look to consist of just that. I’m sure many people would agree with me on that. If you take a look at most of our wasted days, I don’t think it’s because we want them to be consumed with TV and social media. However, the days kind of just happen! But that leaves us with a question –
In this time of prolonged waiting, what can we do to redeem the extra time the Lord has given us?
Before How, Who?
Before we get into things we can do, someone might certainly say, “David, c’mon! Nothing is wrong with Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest or TV. Do you know what I would say? “You’re totally right!” But, that does not really settle anything– there are other questions that need to be asked. One of those questions is “who are we made to be?”
God has spread all kinds of hidden gems all over his creation for us to discover and use in creativity.
If you look at the beginning of Genesis, you’ll notice in chapter 1 that God creates human beings and gives them a distinct task. “Be fruitful and multiple, and fill the earth” (Genesis 1:28a). Most of us have heard that part. But then he continues, “…fill the earth and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” In the original purpose for mankind, they were to rule over the earth as under-rulers: ruling over the earth while God rules over them. They were to extend God’s glory throughout the whole earth, harnessing all the creative potential in our universe to develop culture and technology. This is why God is not surprised that we have cell phones. God created electromagnetic fields, knowing one day we would discover how to hone their potential into something beautiful. It’s as if God has created this world as a technological Easter Egg hunt – humans walk around and find little nuggets of creative resources God put there in creation. They then use these to build products and culture. God designed that way knowing we would grow in our abilities and understandings of how to use this world for the most good and for His glory.
However, as we all know the Bible continues. We later read about how humanity sins against this God and inverts the created order. Instead of living as under-rulers with God being their head, they seek to define good and evil themselves and in the process fall from grace. The result? Now the creation is under a curse until Jesus Christ returns one day and sets the universe right again. But until then? Genesis 3:17-19 details how creation will not fight back against humanity. Now instead of exercising dominion over creation, we make ourselves servants of the creation. Talk about an upside-down universe!
Here’s how this impacts you and I – we live in a world that has many good things in it. However, we must fight back so that these good things do not rule over us. In other words, we will be tempted to destroy and waste our lives with good things. How might this happen? Easily. You take something good like Netflix or Facebook. Those are fantastic technologies that can provide great entertainment. However, if you are watching hours of those a day and not using the creativity God has given you, there is something that has drastically gone wrong. These good things, added up over the course of time, can zap years from your life. The New York Post did a recent study in December of 2019 and concluded the average American will spend 8.9 years of their life watching TV. 8.9 years! Again, there’s nothing wrong about watching television or surfing Facebook, but the big question remains: “are these things exercising dominion over you instead of you exercising dominion over them?”
With this in mind, I think the Bible would call us to be intentional how we spend our time. Watch TV – and have a blast doing it – but do so setting guards over yourself. I would suggest limiting your time to a certain amount of minutes per day. Same goes for other entertainment like Facebook and Pinterest. Build-in other activities into your schedule. What other activities you might say? That leads us to our next two thoughts: activities that have us spending time directly with the Lord and activities that foster our creativity as human beings.
How We Relate to God Directly
Set Aside a Time to Hear – The very best habit you can develop in your life is the daily routine of reading the Bible. Notice what I did not say. I did not say listening to your favorite Bible teacher. Notice I did not say reading a devotional. Not that any of these are bad, they are not the same as personal study and neither one will teach you how to read the Bible like reading it yourself. Just you, the Bible, and a pen in your hand. Try to read through books over the Bible over the course of a couple weeks or months, doing so a few verses at a time. But why would we do this? In an age that so desperately wants a “fresh word from God,” it’s ironic because God has already spoken. Maturity in Christ cannot be gained apart from the frequent study of His Word. It’s impossible. Sure, you might grow in some Bible facts here and there, but they will never be applied to your life. Maybe you or someone you know struggles with reading? Someone in my family did as well, but they now use an audio Bible. Set the Bible to slow and have it read to you, pause it, take notes, then resume. Don’t know where to begin this? Let me give you my format for your own reference: I get a composition notebook and a pen. I write down the date, then ask the Lord to give me wisdom in reading His Word and to open my mind. From there, I start reading, usually a couple verses at a time. From there, I start writing down what I see. I start asking myself questions, writing them down as I go and try my best to answer them. I usually do this anywhere between 20 minutes and 45 minutes. In the end, I ask big questions and try to answer them: 1) How does this text point to Jesus Christ? 2) What does this teach me about God? 3) What does this teach me about myself?
Set Aside Times to Speak– After you have finished your Bible study, you might want to take 5-10 minutes and speak to the Lord based on what you just read. However, that is not the only time during the day in which you can go to him. Try to schedule out multiple slots during the day to go to the Lord in prayer. Set a timer for 15-20 minutes if you have to and put your phone on silent in the other room. The normal routine I shoot for is this: 10-15 minutes of prayer in the morning after I study the Word. 20-30 minutes praying during the lunch hour. After that, I try to pray the Psalms between 15-20 minutes before I lay down at night. You might wonder what I mean by praying the Psalms. Take a look at some videos I’ve created to learn how to pray the Bible. It’s a habit I started years ago, and now I will never go back to any other way. I included a book on the subject as well just in case you would like to read it.
Make Some Calls – One of the ways we relate to God is almost counter-intuitive: through his people! Christianity in its true form is impossible to live in isolation. Why? Because it requires you to both know others and be known yourself. The three ways God changes us into a people devoted to him are, 1) through His Word, 2) through prayer, and, 3) through your local church. That is how he designed it! With that being said, pick up your phone and try to intentionally make calls to people in your congregation. Check up on them, not just with the “how are you doing’s?” Rather, ask questions that require them to think about their answer so you can really hear how they are doing. “What has your mind be most anxious about during this time?” “What promises of God have been hard to believe during this time?” Pray with them over the phone. Download a membership directory from your church’s website and pray through your whole church once a week, taking a little time each day to do so.
How We Display Our Love for Him in How We Creation
One of the ways you can redeem this time is through skills and trades. While that first word might be familiar to most of you, the second word has lost some of its luster in recent years. A skill is something that you can do. For instance: reading, athletic ability, horseback riding, billiards, etc. Then what’s the difference between skills and trades? Trades are skills that you can do later for income. For instance, you can learn photography with the hope of one day having a side business where you photograph people’s weddings. Or you can learn computer programming with hopes of one day making a career out of it.
Try to find certain skills or trades you can improve on during this time. Don’t know where to start? Here is a list of some options all over the map, for the creative and nerd alike:
Become a Graphic Artist on the Computer – Maybe you want to learn how to draw cool superheroes, create logos, design t-shirts, or make a whole career out it. Well, that is totally possible – for free! Inkscape is a great program you can download at no cost. Well, I shouldn’t say no cost – it does cost some hard work to get good at it. They have training videos on this same site, plus you can probably type in “Draw__________ Inkscape” on Youtube and get a ton of free tutorials. For example, imagine one of your little girls being able to draw a Unicorn fiesta!
Writing – Practice your writing. Start a blog or start writing a story. Pick up a book on how to write well and improve your writing. For those of you who like writing non-fiction and would like to work on your writing, take a look at this book. It’s about quoting and how to interact with other people’s arguments. Sounds boring right? But it was crazily-enough one of the most fun books I have ever read. Alright, enough of the nerdy stuff…
Do photoshoots for families, people who are typically impoverished and can’t afford them, and explore the world of light and color God created
Photography – Have you ever thought it would be neat to capture memories in your family as well as possibly do get some spare money on the side? Find a camera and take a class on photography over the internet. You literally could become a master at this by the time June or July rolls around. Think about it: you would be able to help people in some extraordinary ways, able to give the gifts of memories to people for the rest of your life. One of my favorite websites for things like this is Udemy. They provide dirt cheap classes. If you wait around a week or two, they usually offer 90% off on all their classes, so never settle for paying full price. Right now you can find a photography class for $16. By the time you see this, it might have gone up. If so, just wait a week and look again. What if your picture hangs up in someone’s living room 80 years from now? Pretty cool, right?
Learn a Language – ¡Hola amigo! Pasa esas papas fritas. I know you might have passed high School Spanglish, but what would it be like to actually speak another language? What if you could go on one of the mission trips and actually speak to everyone in Spanish? Duolingo is a free resource you can download on your phone or use on your computer. Give it a shot! They have a ton of languages to choose from!
Baking – Maybe you love shows like The Great British Bake Off. Make it your goal to learn 3-5 supremely difficult things during this time. Maybe that will be a 15-layer cake or an epic cake design. Use your time to work on projects like this that can use to benefit and serve others after this pandemic ends. Also, you can gladly leave a slice of any project you are working on at my door. Please, someone, learn to make chameleon cakes! Is that not the coolest thing you’ve ever seen in your life? Ahghghhhhhhh!!!!
Computer Coding – Look at learning how to do basic websites with HTML and CSS. Then start moving to programs like Visual Basic, C#, and other cool programming languages. Christ has given us the ability to make computers – now we can learn how to use this technology in a way that exercises dominion over it. You can find sites for these all over the internet. This could be the foundation for you building websites or one day getting a job as a computer programmer. When most people think of that, it is they think of a rocket scientist. However, if you are somewhat familiar with computers, you can learn just easier than you think. If you can follow instructions and bake brownies, you can learn code. CodeAcademy.com has free scholarships for kids affected by COVID-19 right now, so maybe take advantage of that.
Music – Have you ever imagined what it would be like to be around a campfire and all the sudden be able to pull out a guitar? Think of the fun and warmness you could provide at that moment, giving people a memory they will never forget? Interested? Look around for a reputable teacher in your area. If you are in the South Georgia area, I have a small militia of guitar students who need practice teaching. For a fraction of the cost of normal music lessons, you could begin your journey and give some of my students an opportunity to teach! Contact me if you are interested! Other instruments you could learn: piano, digital audio workstations, harmonica (check out Udemy.com for this), and cajon.
Reading – Research shows that reading stimulates the brain infinitely more than reading on a laptop, smartphone, or watching TV shows. Maybe you haven’t read in a long time. Pick up a book that might help you in your walk with the Lord. Or maybe go on a journey in a work of fiction. Either way, use the brain the Lord has given you. Maybe you struggle with reading – what if during this time, you were able to correct to that? Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that’s not possible? I have a friend who has helped people who struggle in reading (kids and adults) learn to excel in it and love it! Contact me if you are interested. For those who are readers already, here are some of the good books I would recommend that I have read:
Prodigal God by Tim Keller
East of Eden by George Steinbeck
Praying the Bible by Donald Whitney
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky (harder read)
Desiring God by John Piper
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (great for kids)
Conscience: What It Is, How to Train It, and Loving Those Who Differ by Andrew Naselli
The Chronicles ofNarnia or The Harry Potter series (if your conscience allows you in these area)
As the people of God, our risen Christ has re-made us to be many things – intentional and self-controlled are two of those things. We know both of those must be present in order for us to live fruitful lives that will glorify our king. With this possible prolonged season of isolation in front of us, may we prayerfully seek the Lord both in our activities with him and our activities that reflect him through creativity.
In my home, there is a straightforward question that I try to squash like an annoying fly at an outdoor picnic. It may seem simple, but if this question is allowed to take root and grow in the hearts of my family, it can cause lasting damage. Now, the loss is not that the answer to the question is so devastating by itself, but that far more significant damage is done by allowing my family’s hearts to linger there for too long. Is your interest peaked, yet? Are you also wondering if you have allowed something into your home that could cause so much damage?
Well, here it is. I, as a father and husband, fight with to keep my family from asking the “What if” question. You know the one I am talking about:
Your timid 4-year-old child who hears a sound, and asks, “what if there is a monster outside?”
Your over-achieving 14-year-old is uncertainty about their grade on a test they just took, “What if I fail and then do not pass the class?”
Your super-organized wife, who is continually checking her schedule, asks, “What if we do not get everything done before our guest come over?”
Your quiet elderly neighbor, who hears on the news of a potential economic crisis and says, “What if they run out of money and my social security runs dry?”
My own struggle of longing to be the perfect husband and father asking, “What if I just really mess something up?”
Now you might be asking, “Really? You seek to squash every little, “What if…” that you hear?” This seems so trivial. The plan and simple answer is, “Yes!” Wondering why? Is it because you do not want your family or neighbors to ask questions about life? Well, of course, I want others around me asking questions about life, but we need to see that the issue with, “what if…,” is that it actually creates space in the human heart for fear. Fear is the perfect fertilizer in the soil of the human heart to grow either deep trust or great anxiety.
Proverbs 4:23 tells us, “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” The human heart is like a warm greenhouse that must be well guarded lest you allow the wrong things to take root and cause destruction. The heart can produce both life-stealing plants and life-giving plants, and it all depends on what you allow to grow in well-fertilized soil.
God has created the human heart with the capacity for fear, so we know that fear is not always a bad thing. Fear within the human heart is a time when there is an increased vulnerability to influence, so how we allow fear to enter our hearts is of great importance. Fear is a good thing when aligned with proper biblical wisdom. For example, you can fear the Holiness of God. This particular fear’s highest good is that it reminds us we are small and in need of Jesus. Think of the scene in Isaiah 6, where Isaiah was taking in a vision of the throne room of God. He immediately was overcome with fear and had an increased awareness of his sinfulness and complete need of forgiveness. Or imagine that moment your four-year-old heard the noise outside, and ask that question, “What if there is a monster outside?” Your child has fear beginning to settle in their heart and they are in an increased moment of vulnerability to influence. Your child will either be influenced by his thoughts of the monster or by the steady and calming words of you. Fearful moments happen so that we can train our hearts to trust in the mighty hand of God and not be influenced by the things of this world.
Right now, we are being bombarded daily by a variety of global media sources that create fear, primarily around COVID-19. As we have already seen, fear is the perfect fertilizer for either deep trust or high anxiety. Let’s talk about anxiety for just a moment, and then we will speak about how to deepen our faith in moments of fear. Friends, let me remind you that fear is not always the problem, but what you allow to grow in the soil of your heart during these times of increased influence can be.
Anxiety throughout the Bible is often expressed as a divided heart. When looking at Luke 10 in the story of Martha, Mary, and Jesus, we see a perfect example of a split heart in Martha. Jesus and his disciples have come to their home, and Martha is busy trying to play the ideal host. As she is busily serving her guest, she becomes anxious. She approaches Jesus, saying, Lord tell my sister to help me. Jesus responds to her with these words, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things.” In saying this to Martha, he reveals to her her anxiousness is because her heart is divided over many things: from serving her guests well, to Mary not serving and many other things. Her heart is divided at that moment, and anxiousness has arisen deep within her heart. We see here that anxiety is the heated conflict of different expectations and loves with a human heart (a sermon we preached last year elaborates on this).
Daily we are being fed with information that will create fear. Fear creates a heart that has an increased vulnerability to influence, especially towards worldly things. Anxiety is the conflict in a heart over opposing loves and expectations. The COVID-19 season we are in is a perfect storm for people to lose all hope and move into a high season of anxiety. Yet this does not have to be the case for God’s people because we have been given everything necessary to find this to be a high season of deep trust in our mighty God. We have got to stop listening to our hearts in moments of fear by asking “What if?” questions so that we do not fan anxiety into a flame. Instead, we must begin to preach to ourselves things that are good, right, and pure — namely, the truths about who God is.
Here are three types of fears that breed high anxiety in this season and biblical truths that you can preach to yourself instead of asking the ‘what if’ questions:
Fear the world is out of control – This is probably the most common fear in seasons like we are in today with COVID-19, where we feel like the virus has finally shown us that the world is simply out of control. It is in seasons like this where we question the power and might of God, or his goodness towards his creation. Instead of letting your heart ask all sorts of ‘what if’ questions, thereby allowing your heart to be influenced by a whole bunch of maybes. Seek to read about God’s mighty control. You can read Job 38-42 and find solid biblical truth that will lead you to deepen your trust in God, who is higher and more potent than all things. Or you can read 1 Peter 5:6-10, which says that part of casting all your anxieties on him is humbling yourself under his mighty hand, knowing this mighty hand cares for you. When the fear that the world is out of control creates a heart easily influenced within you, spend time preaching to yourself that Your God is mighty than all things. If there is just one rouge molecule on the earth, God is no longer sovereign over it. Take comfort in how the Word of God repeats time after time, “God is Sovereign! Whom then shall I fear?”
Fear of not having enough – This is probably the second most common fear in seasons like our current one. This is when grocery store shelves look empty, and paychecks look thinner, and a whole lot of ‘what if’ questions begin to creep into our hearts primed for influence. Yet, we do not have to be consumed by the power of lack but preach to our hearts that God is a providing God. You can read Luke 12 or Matthew 6 that teach about the truth that we are not to worry about what we are to eat, drink or wear because our God knows our need. One of the great true and right things about God that we must learn during times of fear of not having enough is the idea that God is a provider of our daily needs. He never tells his people to build bigger storehouses, but to deepen their trust in him as he promises to provide our daily bread. This is an echo of the truth in the book of Numbers with the idea of manna, which God said he would give daily. Now God promises to daily provide the grace of God through the bread of life, Jesus Christ himself, so that we deepen our trust in the faithful God.
Fear of losing things we love – This is a very personal fear because it hits all of us in different ways since we all love different things. It may be the home that you built from the ground up or the retirement that you spent your whole life accumulating. It may be your beloved pets or those in your family, which you love so dearly. The fear of losing loved ones is deep and can produce extreme seasons of anxiety. You can let your heart become overwhelmed by the potential loss of a loved one, or you can preach to yourself about the presence of God himself. Freedom from the anxiety of possible losing things you love does not result from the absence of that thought but by the presence of more significant thought. Psalm 73:23-28 shows us that the author of this psalm actually found comfort and peace in knowing that God is continual with him. Our ability to fight against fear and anxiety comes as we preach to our hearts that God is a present help because he will never leave us or forsake us.
We know that we will experience fear in our world and that during seasons of doubt, our hearts will be fertile ground for great things or high anxiety. Anxiety rises as we listen to our hearts, “What if?” questions, so instead, we must preach to ourselves the character of God in Jesus Christ. In this season of COVID-19, we must train ourselves not to allow fear or questions of “what if?” to rule our hearts, but let the God who controls all things reign supreme. May we seek God and his kingdom above all things, and the peace of God will sustain us.
This is part two of a three-part series on God and our suffering.
We are officially in the waiting period during the current COVID-19 crisis. The virus has impacted the world more than anyone would have ever anticipated. How long this crisis will continue is uncertain. Some are guessing weeks, others months, and still others over a year. While most of us in the United States are now accustomed to prolonged stays within our houses, I wanted to continue writing on the topic of suffering. “Why?” you might ask? Because I have found it is much easier to learn about suffering before you suffer. While many have greatly suffered during the current crisis, there are countless others whose lives have not been dramatically impacted yet. It is for these people I continue to write, not knowing whether an escalation of suffering is coming or if the current crisis will indeed end by mid-April or May.
As we pick up from the last blog post on suffering, we will continue in this post to look at God’s purposes for suffering in the lives of human beings. While I originally thought this would be a two-part series, the length of these articles has forced me to make it into a three-part series. Previously we saw how most in our culture have the same view of suffering. We called this the Earth-Mirrors-Heaven view; the idea that our life on earth is an indicator of how God feels about us. However, we saw the bevy of people in the Bible (Noah, Moses, Anna, Peter, Paul just to name a few) who experienced prolonged suffering and opposition in their life with whom God was pleased. Those figures showed us how both of the following graphics aren’t necessarily true like we unknowingly believe in our gut.
Even after knowing this, we still have not spoken about the actual reasons for suffering. That is where we will begin today – with general reasons for suffering in this world. The Bible claims these reasons for suffering are universally true in the life of every person, whether they follow Jesus or not. In many ways, these reasons work as shadows that lurk behind every heartbreak we encounter. From there, we will examine God’s purposes for suffering in the life of the person who does not have faith in Christ. Finally, we will move to suffering in the life of the Christian, but that won’t be touched until the final article set for this week.
General Reasons for Suffering
These reasons for suffering are true in every case. Whether you find out news that you have cancer, get your wallet stolen, experience a deadly pandemic, or the loss of a loved one – these reasons are universally true.
1) The Fall
Bible: Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all menbecause all sinned — for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not counted where there is no law. Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those whose sinning was not like the transgression of Adam, who was a type of the one who was to come. (Romans 5:12-14)
Explanation: The Bible gives a specific reason that accounts for all suffering. It claims that all suffering has its ties back to Adam and Eve’s first sin. Most Christians call this “The Fall.” Notice what Paul says in the book of Romans: because our first parents’ transgression, sin came into the world and death/decay through sin. Here’s something very important to note: this means humanity was not created to suffer. That is not in our biological make-up. For those of you who have been to funerals or children’s cancer hospitals, you know these never feel normal. And they never will. Adam and Eve’s sin made them sinners by nature, passing it down to all those after them (including you and me). This is why the Bible can say we are born sinners – not because we pickpocket the doctor as he pulls us out of the birthing canal – but because our natures are corrupted. We are born with a heart that wants to rule itself, not submit to God’s good ways. We are both heartbreakers who will sin against others and the heartbroken who will be sinned against.
2) “That’s Life” Living in a Fallen World
Bible:Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness. The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them. Then I said in my heart, “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity (Ecclesiastes 2:13-15)
Explanation: This is one of those verses that many unfamiliar with Christianity would not expect to find in the Bible. It comes from the Wisdom portion of the Bible (Job, Proverbs, Ruth, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Solomon). These books seek to familiarize the reader with suffering and teach them how to suffer well. One of the books carries the distinct tone of someone who realizes he just can’t win in this life – Ecclesiastes. In chapter two, Solomon (the author of the book) writes about how he looked out into the world and witnessed that living a life that revolves around the Lord pays off in most situations (“Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly”). Yet at the same time, anger and confusion well up inside him. He notices how the wise have it no better off than the fool: “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” He is essentially saying, “What the heck?!? Have I loved God for nothing?!?
I’m suffering just like the wicked man!!” Solomon felt like he had been Clark Griswold-ed – expecting a nice, fat Christmas bonus but instead getting a one-year membership in the Jelly-of-the-Month Club. What is Ecclesiastes doing here? It makes more sense if you see that the book is written from the viewpoint of earth looking up to heaven (the opposite of a book like Job that begins with the perspective of heaven looking down). In Job, you know what’s going on the whole time because you so the exchange between God and Satan in the first two chapters. Ecclesiastes does not give you that vantage point. Solomon dares to remind the reader of what we all truly long for – a life without toil, frustration, pain and death – and how that longing is a good thing! However, that kind of life cannot be expected in the present age. If you live long enough, you will suffer. You will bury people you never dreamed you would bury, and you will lose more than you ever thought you could lose. However, the place your heart really longs for will be realized one day if you are in Christ. Until then, hold on to Jesus and His Word with all you have and take Ecclesiastes’ final words with seriousness: “The end of the matter, all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14)
Specific Reasons for Suffering
To the surprise of some, God does not give the same promises for all humanity regarding suffering. In other words, the way the Bible’s storyline does not allow a person to read promises in the Bible to anyone and everyone in pain. There is one major dividing line Scripture insists on that differentiates suffering into two camps: those who have repented of their sins and those who have not. This is what makes Christianity so different – it is impossible to throw out fortune cookies about how to deal with suffering. Whether a person knows the Lord or not makes all the difference in whether there is any hope in their suffering or not. Let’s look first at those who might not know the Lord. What are some reasons for their suffering?
Reasons Non-Followers of Christ Suffer
1) A warning shot for final judgment
Bible:There were some present at that very time who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” (Luke 13:1-5)
Explanation: In the above passage, you will note how some people came to Jesus with some CNN headlines. The governor of the province, Pontius Pilate, had punished several Jews for an unknown act. Their punishment? Death by sacrifice. Pilate killed these men and mixed their own blood with the blood of the animals they sacrificed to the Lord. This was an atrocity in Jewish culture! The people wondered, “were the men who suffered this fate worse sinners?” You can understand where they’re coming from – that was a horrible death. They reasoned these dead men must have had some secret sins no one knew about for God to destine them for that kind of suffering. However, Jesus’s response catches the crowds off guard. He essentially says, “No way!” before citing another freak accident that happened closeby. Jesus describes another event where people were out for a stroll in a nearby city. Tragically, a tower came crashing down on a few innocent bystanders. 100% accident. Jesus essentially tells them, “It’s not because of their wickedness they suffered this fate.” But then he drops the mic: “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.” Wow! Confused? Here’s what he means: every ounce of suffering a non-Christian feels works like a warning shot, an appetizer, of a much more painful judgment to come. Maybe you who are reading this would not consider yourself a follower of Jesus – hear this warning. You think the pain and suffering you feel is bad? Can you imagine longing for it as if it were enjoyable? This life is as good as it gets for you. Every experience of suffering acts as a warning of greater judgment, getting louder and coming closer with every moment a man or woman does not repent. It does not have to be that way though — Jesus Christ calls all humanity to turn from their sins and escape this wrath to come.
2) To show the religiously lost they do not know God after all so that they would be saved
Bible: “For though absent in body, I am present in spirit; and as if present, I have already pronounced judgment on the one who did such a thing. When you are assembled in the name of the Lord Jesus and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus, you are to deliver this man to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 5:3-5
Explanation: Out of all the ones on the list so far, this reason is the biggest stretch to find in the Bible. I honestly do believe it is there, and in multiple places. The text above comes from 1 Corinthians, where Paul is rebuking the church for their arrogance in how they had avoided church disciplining of a man who who was currently in a sexual relationship with his mother-in-law. They probably thought they were being tolerant, or that they were “loving” the man by not doing this. However, Paul reminds them the kindest and most loving thing they could do was exercise church discipline on the man. In doing so, they were figuratively “handing this man over to Satan for the destruction of his flesh.” But what does he mean by that? He means the church would stop treating him like a Christian and would let the man chase after his sin, knowing the pain, suffering, and heartbreak is going to come. Not if you’re like me, at first that does not sound very loving. But look at how Paul clarifies it: “so that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord.” Paul is saying that God may use the suffering this person encounters because of their sin to show them they did not know Jesus in the first place. When they begin to taste the bitterness of their life of sin, they may remember the sweetness of what they heard about the grace of God in Christ. Therefore, the suffering these people go through alerts them to the fact that they may have been religious people, but not Christians. Maybe a modern-day analogy will help. In the South, many people think as long as a person genuinely repeats a sinner’s prayer or responds to an “altar call,” they are a Christian. The Bible would be very wary of that. It assumes that mankind is so lost, we even use religion and Christian-ish things to still love their sin and stay in control of our own lives. Many walk around who have repeated prayers and walked aisles, but they show no evidence of what the Bible would call a Christian. I was one of those between the ages of 8 and 16. Therefore, we see God is so merciful that sometimes he uses suffering in the life of someone who looks like a believer but is not to lead them to the gospel of Christ.
This is part one of a three-part series on God and our suffering.
I hate scary movies. Actually, let me rephrase: my friends hate scary movies. Well, not quite; more accurately: my friends hate scary movies when they sit next to me. Anyone who has been to a thriller at a local movie theater and sat next to me knows just how traumatic of an experience it can be. During the most intense parts, my seat mysteriously empties as I crawl into my neighbor’s lap – despite their best efforts to push me away. I confess I might be a little bit of a scared-y-cat when it comes to movies. Perhaps the most intense thriller I remember was in the early 2000’s – M. Night Shyamalan’s classic Signs starring Mel Gibson. The movie centers around Graham Hess (Gibson), an Episcopal priest who appears to “lose” his faith before regaining it.
In the beginning, Hess seems like an awfully conflicted man without reason – that is, until a flashback reveals the source of his conflict. Before their eyes, the moviegoer watches a scene six months earlier as a car struck Hess’s wife during a pre-dinner walk, pinning her to a tree. The injury kept her alive long enough for him to drive to the accident and say goodbye. I can still picture the emotional scene to this day, as Hess says farewell to his wife for the last time.
Though Signs took many unexpected plot turns, it ultimately focused on the theme of how people grapple with faith in one hand and suffering/devastation on the other hand; hence the deliberate portrayal of Hess as an Episcopal priest. The movie is meant to provoke thought in the movie-goer about how they wrestle with their own suffering.
Saying Nothing While Saying Something
Reflecting on the movie and the suffering of those around me, I’ve noticed some particularly alarming trends. One such trend is how many of my fellow Christians have a thin view of suffering in its relationship to God. You can see it because their suffering usually leaves them spiritually traumatized. I find this particularly true with those who have been raised going to church. Don’t get me wrong – this is not me criticizing them. I don’t think they are the ones to blame. For the first 30 years of my life, I had a poor understanding of suffering and God’s intentions for it. I think we’ve all been taught poorly in this area.
The Bible has a ton to say about God and suffering. For the most part, many pastors and teachers either gloss over it – or worse – they focus on one aspect of suffering while they miss others. Now think about this – if all of us have little to no understanding about suffering, how do you think that will impact us when we actually do suffer? I’ll tell you the results – we will be the kind of people who rely on trite sayings that sound somewhat profound, but honestly don’t heal our wounds at all. You’ve probably heard some of these: “God is just getting your attention,” or “You’re going through this for a reason.” However, like a wedding speech given by a drunk groomsman, these popular phrases seem to say a lot, but think about it – do they really say anything at all?
“God’s getting my attention” – okay. Why? Am I dying? Am I sinning? Does he hate me? Is he happy with me? Is he angry at me? Is something coming that I need to know about?
“You’re going through this for a reason” – uhhh…that’s helpful…kinda…ish? But you know what would be way more helpful? Hmmm…how about a hint at the actual reason. Or how about at least a layout of the options? Is it a good reason? Is it a bad reason? Is the reason because of my spouse? Child? Friend? Cat?
I’m curious: can you begin to see the problem with these? By reflecting on some of our thin beliefs about suffering, a question emerges: how can we grow in our understanding and see the Lord in our suffering? I mean, wouldn’t you want to know how to handle your own suffering better? I sure would. Three things will really help us here: 1) we need to examine what we believe deep down about God and suffering, 2) look at what the Bible says about suffering and how that is way better news for us than what we believe in our gut, and, 3) look at the kaleidoscope of reasons the Bible says suffering exists. Then we can compare that list to our own suffering (this will be the subject of the second article).
Earth Mirrors Heaven
What do we really believe about suffering? I think the vast majority of Americans believe the same thing about God’s relationship to suffering, even if they are not a follower of Jesus. I call it the “Earth Mirrors Heaven” view of suffering. Here’s the gist of it: earth is the mirror of heaven in the sense that however my relationship with God is doing (how pleased he is with me), that will be reflected for the most part on earth (what my life is like here). If God is pleased with me, my life will generally be good. If he is not pleased, my life will be taking a turn for the worst. Here’s what this would look like if I drew it:
Now before I go any further, let me say this: 1) I do not believe this is what the Bible says about suffering, and, 2) I don’t think most people (me included) realize how much we believe this. Let me give some examples and you will see how you might unknowingly default to this belief. Most people will not fall into the first two categories, but everyone will fall into the third.
Hard Core Fans in Earth Mirrors Heaven – Prosperity Teachers. If you tune into the television station TBN, you will find the hardcore fans in the Earth Mirrors Heaven belief. These TV preachers will say something to the tune of how God shows his pleasure with someone by making them healthy and wealthy. “Do you want to see a Christian who God is pleased with? Just look at their success on earth. Look at the ones with successful businesses, excellent financial portfolios, beautiful wives, and multiple cars.” These are your run-of-the-mill false teachers that even those who don’t follow Jesus look at like, “Are you kidding me?” Examples: Joel Osteen – Lakeview Church, Bill Johnson – Bethel Church, Joyce Meyer – Joyce Meyer Ministries.
Big Fans in Earth Mirrors Heaven – The Moral (But Unbelieving) Church Member. There is a more subtle version of the belief that Earth Mirrors Heaven. Surprisingly, it infects those who sometimes appear to be the most faithful church members, however as Jesus warned, many of these probably do not know Him. Their relationship with God is not about a day to day walk of enjoying him. Rather, they are content to keep the outward form of religion. Their life mostly revolves around looking godly. They might give money, but they give so they can have the feeling that God is pleased so that they may hoard (or blow) the rest. They keep all kinds of commandments, but they do so to feel better about themselves. If tragedy strikes those in this group, they are often confused. “Why?” After all, they have kept the rules! They have attended church gatherings! They have an expectation that their deeds should have been seen in the heavens, therefore the result should be a better life. They do not say this out loud like the above group of Hard Core Fans of Earth Mirrors Heaven, but you can see the root of the belief there.
Fans-Who-Don’t-Know-They’re-Fans in Earth Mirrors Heaven – Most Christians (Including Me at Times). I was counseling a young Christian leader in 2011. He was broken-hearted, but more than that he was concerned. We sat there in a room on a late July afternoon. His girlfriend just broke up with him and he wanted to be married so badly, but he was concerned God would no longer bring him a wife. Why? Because years earlier, he had slept with a previous girlfriend. Though this guy truly did love the Lord, he thought this was God’s way of giving him what he deserved for past disobedience. But notice his first response to trial – I think we will all find it familiar. His first instinct is to say, “what did I do wrong?” He flips through his past sins like they’re the Yellow Pages, finds the most egregious one he can think of, and says, “Oh God, have mercy because you must be punishing me for that! I’m sorry!” Here’s what this young leader didn’t know at the time: it was his underlying belief that Earth Mirrors Heaven that drove him to deep anguish. You would never put this guy in groups 1 or 2, but can’t you see how, at his core, his belief was somewhat similar?
Isn’t that interesting? There is something almost hardwired in us to think of suffering in this way. But is that the way the Bible describes our suffering? As you read, you begin to discover that is not the case. Just think of those the Bible highlights as those who were particularly faithful:
Noah was mocked for 120 years. Not only that, he probably had to listen to friends and relatives drown as the floodwaters started rising.
Sarah had to suffer through 30 years of uncertainty and emotional turmoil before God kept his promise.
Joseph rotted in a jail cell for the better part of a decade because of a false accusation.
Moses wanted the Lord to kill him because he was so sick of the Israelites attacking his motives and leadership.
Anna lost her husband while they were both still young and spent the rest of her days single.
Paul and Peter were beaten their whole ministries and were eventually executed.
Am I forgetting someone?!? Oh yeah, Jesus Christ. He’s kinda important in the Bible, since all of the Bible is about him.
In fact, it’s hard to think of anyone who loved the Lord with all they had that didn’t go through a life of intense suffering and/or persecution. Godliness, for the vast majority of those in the Bible, turns what we believe in our gut on its head. It often times (though not 100% of the time) looks like this:
Notice what this diagram is not saying. It’s not saying, “God is pleased because my life sucks.” No, it is instead saying, “Despite how bad things look, God is inherently pleased with you because of Christ.”
Yet the Bible goes beyond this — it shows how others lived comfortable and good lives — yet those people should have zero confidence that God is pleased. They might have a good life now, but judgment is coming if they do not repent from their sins and trust in Christ’s death. But how could God do this? How could he show such injustice by treating those who know and love him with suffering while treating those who hate him with kindness?
The Day Injustice Was On Our Side
Where do all these questions lead us? It seems like a dark road, doesn’t it? That is…unless you see where that dark road leads. That is…unless you see who has walked that dark road before. One of the great comforts of Christianity is the fact that God knows injustice and suffering differently. The gods of Islam, Buddhism, and any other religion might know about suffering, but never do they humbly enter into suffering themselves. Right at the moment we have our questions about God’s injustice, we see something curious about him: he is the God who knows injustice firsthand. The greatest day of injustice the world has ever known is when Jesus Christ, the maker of everything, perfect and spotless, was treated like the most vile murderer, self-righteous fool, rapist, and thief. And why did he willingly do this? So the real murderers, self-righteous fools, rapists, and thieves could go free.
There was a day injustice reigned. And what did God bring about on that day? The forgiveness of many and the greatest good the world will ever know. This sheds light on that dark path we walk on as Christians. It shows us that oftentimes, we can’t trust what we can see with our own two eyes. It shows that each of these can be true in this life, and we can’t say one is universally true:
However, as we’ll examine on the next blog, the Bible shows that God uses suffering as the gateway to glory. It shows that suffering does not have the last word. In fact, suffering has the ability to do something beautiful to us and in us — not just in the next life, but rather in this life as well.
All the anticipation was there. I had my Power Ranger’s Valentine’s Day cards carefully laid out on the floor – each card having the name of one of my closest friends. Of course, some people would get a card from me who I never spent time with on our school’s pirate ship-themed playground. But then again, when I was in the 2nd grade you had to make sure nobody got left out. I remember even as an 8-year-old carefully counting the cards to make sure there were enough for the next day. But even to this day, I remember one of those cards carried a little more meaning than the others. On the front of that card stood the name, “Amber.” Don’t get me wrong, I was not about to fess up to liking a girl at that age. No way, José! Nothing would bring a 2nd-grade boy more ridicule than fraternizing with the enemy. After all, they played those silly hand-clapping games and braided hair all day. But yet, there was a part of me even then wondering – no, hoping – that she would give me a Valentine’s Day card as well.
Well, the next day came. I dropped a card in everyone’s Valentine’s Day bag – perhaps lingering a little longer at her bag to see if she would notice. I remember at the end of the party, I grabbed my bag and shuffled through the twenty-something cards from my other classmates. I didn’t care about all of them. I just cared about one. Sure enough, there it was. I remember feeling the exhilaration that I actually had a Valentine. Of course, looking back at it, this little girl gave a Valentine to everyone in the class. But as a 2nd grader, I didn’t know that. All I knew was that I had a genuine V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-E.
Valentine’s Day is a big deal to our culture, and it’s become even bigger than when I was in the 2nd grade. Last year, Americans were predicted to spend an average of $146.33 each on Valentine’s Day – that’s right – $19.6 billion. What kind of messages are people trying to send with that kind of money? Well, people use Valentine’s Day in a variety of ways: some use it to confess their feelings for a friend, some to remind their husband of their love, while still others might use it to try and make up for a year’s worth of inattentiveness to their wife.
With all the lovey-dovey chocolates and flowers that get passed around in February, it’s easy to get an idealized picture of love. But the roses don’t always turn up red on Valentine’s Day. One group of people who go overlooked on this day is a group I actually belong to: singles. That’s right – no spouse, no girlfriend, no hand to hold, no XOXO, and absolutely no Sweetheart candies with cute words on them. Singles are a huge part of our population, and if you go to a church like mine, they might make up a large percentage of your church’s population. That leads to my question: what can singles like me (or perhaps like you reading this) do on Valentine’s Day?
God Knows Your Difficulty
I don’t think it should come as a shock that Valentine’s Day is such a big deal to so many people. The day at its very least reveals something about humanity – we are desiring creatures. We not only long for people and things, but we also longed to be longed for. Hence why on that Valentine’s Day in 2nd grade, it was not enough for me just to give that girl a valentine. I longed for a card from her. But what happens when that desire to be longed for goes unmet? I think everyone knows the horrible feeling. It’s like a papercut to the heart – not enough to kill you, but enough to make you shudder whenever you think about it.
For many single Christians, February 14th initiates a panic where their brain tells them to stop worrying about that “crazy little thing called love.” Instead, they are to manage any heartache as best they can when Cupid comes around the corner. Most hope to go through the day escaping any notice, pleading to God they will not hear the dreaded, “God’s got someone out there for you,” speech for the 14,000th time (#WhatMightBeTrueIsNotAlwaysHelpful). Thus, Valentine’s Day can function as a day when many single Christians are tempted to doubt God’s good provision and careful attentiveness to their life. After all, does he really feel the anguish you feel?
But that’s where the Bible has a good word for those who long to be longed for. Solomon writes,
Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. (Proverbs 13:12)
Now you might read that and say, “Duh! When I don’t get something I want, I hurt.” But that is not exactly what Solomon is getting at. I think many of us tend to think God looks at us the same way a group of 40-year old’s look at a young teenager who just got broken up with. As if God just grimaces/smiles, thinking, “Yeah, she thinks that her whole world is crashing down. She’s got a lot to learn.” I don’t think that’s the case based on this proverb. Solomon is saying there really is something anguishing about having your heart want something so badly while constantly having that desire go unfulfilled. Some evolutionary biologist might tell you this anguish is just a neurological response your body goes through in response to a lack of stimulation. Not the Bible – it says the pain you feel, that junk is real and wasn’t meant to happen! You were created to find all your longings fulfilled by the God of the Universe, but that all changed because of Adam and Eve’s rebellion and sin entering the world. We went from being a perfectly satisfied human race to satisfaction leeches, latching onto anything and everything to suck meaning, identity, and life out of things. Thus, unfulfilled hope is now a part of our lives, and it doesn’t just affect your body, it affects every part of you: body and soul.
Single Christian, when you run to the Bible during this time of year, know that God’s Word does not deny your heartache. But instead, we run to the Word of God who became flesh and tasted of the anguish this fallen world contains. And he will carry you through (even if your anguish remains temporarily) to the day when he wipes away every tear.
You Gotta Work at This Gift
I remember as an 11-year old, Christmas day rolled around and my Dad got us a completely unexpected gift – an electric guitar. It was a candy-apple-red Squire Strat. I had not even mentioned wanting to play, but when I saw it, I thought, “Oh great! Let’s do this!” As I soon found out, I was horrible at guitar. I had no music background, and couldn’t play even the simplest of songs. Even after a year of lessons, I quit, only to pick up the same instrument years later. Today I have been playing guitar for 20 years, and I’ve become a professional through lots of hard work, practice and study. Looking back on that Christmas day, that was a cool gift my Dad gave, but it was a gift that required work and intentionality to be able to use it properly.
Being single for 34 years of my life, I have found the single life is much more like an instrument than many would think. Paul, in writing to a church to sort out their relationship issues, says to the singles in the congregation:
Now as a concession, not a command, I say this. I wish that all were as I myself am. But each has his own gift from God, one of one kind and one of another. To the unmarried and the widows, I say that it is good for them to remain single as I am. But if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry. For it is better to marry than to burn with passion. (1 Corinthians 7:5-7)
If you just read that as I did, you will notice Paul just called singleness a “gift.” Now, this is where many will throw up their hands and say, “David, I don’t have the gift of singleness that you apparently have since you can see it as a gift.” First of all, I don’t think I have the gift of singleness. I long for a wife like a penguin in Miami longs for an iceberg. Second, I think from this verse, Paul has two kinds of singleness in mind: 1) a permanent singleness and, 2) a temporary singleness. I think there is a permanent singleness that can be a gift from the Lord. This is what Paul is referring to when he says, “I wish that all were as I myself am (single). But each has his own gift from God…” Paul had that gift. Some godly people undoubtedly have that as well. Not everyone who is single has that gift, though.
But Paul also assumes the gift temporary singleness here as well (“But each has his own gift from God…”). Each of the people in this congregation had a gift – some of the gift of marriage, others the gift permanent singleness, and still others the gift of temporary singleness. However, some of those walking in that gift of temporary singleness were experiencing burning passion, which functioned as a sign that they should try to transition from their current gift (temporary singleness) to another gift (marriage).
Here’s what that means single Christian – even if you are not in your preferred relationship status, you are amid a gift right now. You are walking in a gift even if you don’t have the gift of permanent singleness. For this season in life and until the Lord brings you a spouse, you have more free time and fewer responsibilities than a married man or woman in the same position. For one, this means your current state is not cursed by God. But also, it means that something is not just automatically wrong with you. You’ve been given a great gift, even if it’s a temporary gift with an expiration date.
But how do you use that gift, and how do you come to not view it like a piece of fruitcake you got as a gift at Christmas (the most re-gifted gift ever)? I think this is where it can be helpful to view our gift of temporary singleness like the guitar my Dad gave me all the years ago – it’s a gift that takes work and intentionality. If you are not careful and intentional, I know firsthand how easy the heart can become embittered by the very thing God desires to use to bring beautiful fruit from your life. The result of such bitterness is poison to the soul, as well as the wasting of a gift more precious than we can possibly imagine. So that leads us to the question: how do we work at this gift? Let’s start with Valentine’s Day…
Redeem Your Valentine’s Day
If you want to make your singleness as great of time possible, there are things you might want to both practice and avoid. Let’s start with the negative on Valentine’s Day. What kind of things might you want to avoid? The Hallmark Channel, staying home by yourself gorging on Romantic Comedies, listening to Taylor Swift albums, and stalking Facebook (looking at your ex’s profile or watching all the other Valentine’s moments of your friends wishing that was you) just to name a few. None of these things are wrong per se — I mean, like a good Taylor Swift song as much as any 14-year-old girl. But there are certain seasons of my heart where wisdom would have me stay away from these because of what my heart will do with those good things.
Now for the positive — what are some things to do on Valentine’s Day? From experience, we know anytime the human heart has a desire that goes unfulfilled, it quickly moves into loathing, self-criticism, and self-pity. I think one of God’s great antidotes to self-pity and bitterness is for us to go on the offensive by showing loving kindness through service and self-sacrifice. That’s why I would urge you to make your Valentine’s Day about self-sacrifice.
My favorite suggestion? Grab some roses from the store and turn Friday, February 14th into a day where you give Valentines to people in your church who have lost their Valentines: widows. I’m speaking about those in your church who don’t get out of their house or nursing home. Maybe even take them out to a movie date. Make your night into a night of listening. Visit several of them — some visits might go well, others not so well. But in visiting, you get to ask good questions, weeping with those who weep and mourning with those who mourn. Listen to them, read a Psalm to them, and pray for them.
For those longing to be longed for, know that is a good desire God has planted within your heart. However, until the day he or she comes and God grants you the gift of marriage, or until the Lord takes you home, take advantage of the great gift he’s currently given you. Care for it, work at it, pray to the Lord you will use it well, and fight for joy by giving of yourself to serve others during this season.
The second question, how can we know others? is a little more tricky. Yet, there is a particular answer: questions, questions, questions. Knowing others, in one sense, is all about questions. It’s about asking, not just questions, but the right kind of questions. Let me give some examples below, first of some not-so-good questions and then some questions that are examples of good questions:
Or maybe if you had the gift of mercy, you were perfect for the shut-in visitation team. No matter what the test revealed, your spiritual gift was there was going to be a spot for you to fill unless, of course, your spiritual gift was sarcasm. These tests and the ministry spreadsheet were helpful to allow you to begin to discern where you might be able to serve in the numerous programs that churches tend to offer. But what happens when the programs stop or the church no longer gathers on Sunday, or Wednesday, or any time really? Does this mean you are no longer able to use your gifting for the church, or does it mean maybe we need to re-examine God’s intention for gifting us as the church?
Finally, we need to understand the implications of the two above statements being correct. What does it mean for using our gifts during seasons of isolation? If we believe the gospel, that a holy God has saved a people from the wrath they deserve by substituting his son to take their place, that he calls us by faith to become co-laborers with him, and we think that is a once-a-week thing, have we not settled for less? Knowing that our God is not limited by any geographical location or particular programs frees us to believe that our gifting is connected to a people for the common good of strengthening their faith in God’s great promises. This simply means that any burden that you — the nursery worker, the bulletin folder, or the greeter — are feeling during this season of isolation from the gathering may be illuminating a needed adjustment in your practice of spiritual gifts. You may be settling for something good when God has called you to experience and be so much more. 
– After you have finished your Bible study, you might want to take 5-10 minutes and speak to the Lord based on what you just read. However, that is not the only time during the day in which you can go to him. Try to schedule out multiple slots during the day to go to the Lord in prayer. Set a timer for 15-20 minutes if you have to and put your phone on silent in the other room. The normal routine I shoot for is this: 10-15 minutes of prayer in the morning after I study the Word. 20-30 minutes praying during the lunch hour. After that, I try to pray the Psalms between 15-20 minutes before I lay down at night. You might wonder what I mean by praying the Psalms. Take a look at some videos I’ve created to learn how to pray the Bible. It’s a habit I started years ago, and now I will never go back to any other way. I included a book on the subject as well just in case you would like to read it. 
Baking – Maybe you love shows like The Great British Bake Off. Make it your goal to learn 3-5 supremely difficult things during this time. Maybe that will be a 15-layer cake or an epic cake design. Use your time to work on projects like this that can use to benefit and serve others after this pandemic ends. Also, you can gladly leave a slice of any project you are working on at my door. Please, someone, learn to make chameleon cakes! Is that not the coolest thing you’ve ever seen in your life? Ahghghhhhhhh!!!!
