Category Archives: Devotional/Practical

Be Taught . . . Be Stable

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Is the Bible difficult to understand?

Yes and no.

Around AD 185, Irenaeus of Lyons wrote, “The entire Scriptures, the prophets, and the Gospels, can be clearly, unambiguously, and harmoniously understood by all, although all do not believe them” (Against Heresies 2.27.3). But that famous pastor was describing a particular kind of student who was “devoted to piety and the love of truth,” who would “eagerly meditate upon those things which God has . . . subjected to our knowledge.” Such a student of Scripture would “make advancement in acquaintance with them, rendering the knowledge of them easy to him by means of daily study” (2.27.1). The flip side of this is that the impious, the lazy, and those who fail to accept the limitations of our knowledge would not achieve even the basic level of proficiency in his or her understanding of the Bible.

Over a hundred years earlier, the apostle Peter gave us a similar warning about understanding Scripture. With reference to Paul’s writings, he said, “Some things [are] hard to understand, which the untaught and unstable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction” (2 Peter 3:16).

How do we avoid becoming like those Scripture Twisters who wound verses of the Bible into a spiritual hangman’s noose? Peter painted a clear picture of them, and we ought to listen to his warning.

Untaught and Unstable

Peter said the “untaught” and “unstable” twisted Paul’s writings to their destruction. The Greek word translated “untaught” is the literal opposite of “discipled.” A discipled person was an apprentice who learned from a teacher over the course of several years. Thus, Peter said that one way to be a Scripture Twister was to be untaught by a teacher. The implication is clear: only those who have been trained can be expected to skillfully weave passages of Scripture together into a unified whole centered on Christ and faithfully representing the pattern of Christian truth. Paul called this skill “accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15). Peter also described Scripture Twisters as “unstable.” They were ungrounded, off kilter, “tipsy.” Picture the difference between a trailer house standing on cinder blocks and a building resting on bedrock. The unstable were like reeds in the wind, waving to and fro with the changing winds.

What was true in Peter’s day has never changed. Today untaught and unstable people distort the Scriptures, often unknowingly. They misread and misunderstand the Bible because they lack the patience, the humility, or the endurance to pass from spiritual infancy to adulthood, from the rank of novice to the rank of master. Yet they rest their bad theology and practice on the Bible and claim to be masters and teachers of things they don’t really understand (1 Timothy 1:7). They scoff at authority, reject tradition, and throw out the perspectives of other believers. All the while they claim “the Bible alone” as their only source of authority, not realizing that they naively read into the Bible their own inaccurate ideas.

In light of Peter’s warning, Bible-believing Christians need to be particularly cautious about how we read the Bible . . . and how we tell others to read it. For example, I recently read a book suggesting that if my Bible has study notes I ought to throw it away and get a blank Bible to read with fresh eyes . . . the teacher’s notes might twist my thinking! For another example: how many times have you been advised not to consult commentaries until you’ve come up with our own, personal interpretation? In light of Peter’s warning, I can’t help but read such exhortations as encouraging Christians to be “untaught.”

Peter would not have approved.

Am I saying that we should stop reading our Bibles on our own? No. But I am saying we should never read our Bibles in isolation. Taking personal initiative to read and study Scripture is right. But rejecting training and accountability with others as we read the Bible is wrong.

Be Taught . . . Be Stable

What, then, are we to do to handle the Bible accurately? Peter has already given us the answer: be taught and be stable. But how? By submitting to the teaching of the Holy Spirit working through His gifted teachers in the Spirit-indwelled community. We often appeal to the Holy Spirit’s direct, individual, personal work in our hearts to teach us (John 16:13). But this is only half the truth. The New Testament emphasizes over and over that the Spirit not only indwells individuals (1 Corinthians 6:19), making them responsive to the truth (1 Corinthians 2:14), but the Spirit also indwells the church (1 Corinthians 3:16), promoting the faithful teaching of the truth. This corporate model of how we are to be taught and be stable through the working of the Body of Christ is most clearly expressed in Ephesians 4:11–16.

And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ; until we all attain to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ. As a result, we are no longer to be children, tossed here and there by waves, and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, by craftiness in deceitful scheming; but speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him, who is the head, even Christ, from whom the whole body, being fitted and held together by that which every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love.

Did you catch all the ingredients for being taught and being stable? Learning under gifted teachers . . . being fitted together . . . each individual playing a part . . . growing from childhood to adulthood . . . attaining the unity of the faith. Instead of throwing out my study Bible, I ought to let it fill the gaps in my knowledge. Instead of making commentaries my last ditch effort, I should learn from godly scholars. Rather than reinventing the wheel or seeking out the latest fad, I should explore the rich heritage of Christians who have come before me. And rather than leaning on my own personal understanding, I ought to glean what I can from the insights of other believers around me.

If we want to avoid becoming Scripture Twisters, we need to balance our personal Bible reading with community study under gifted teachers. Only in the context of a Bible-believing community led by trained and gifted leaders, we will become taught and stable teachers of Scripture, “accurately handling the word of truth.”

True Community

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Community groups . . . community centers . . . building community . . . promoting community . . . community life . . . community churches . . . faith communities . . . the Christian community . . .

Community has become a buzzword in twenty-first century evangelicalism. Today’s churches have reacted decisively against the unhealthy and unbiblical obsession with the personal preference, private spirituality, and individualistic Christianity of the twentieth century. In its stead, many have been drawn to a community-oriented Christianity that more accurately reflects the koinonia emphasis of the New Testament—the corporate disciplines and worship, fellowship of the saints, and ministry that involves the whole Body of Christ.

But what does true community look like?

Two Types of Community

Imagine this kind of community: an uncomfortable hodgepodge of people we barely know, or, what’s worse, maybe we know some of them far too well and wish we didn’t. They come from different backgrounds, different walks of life, different pay grades, different generations. They’re just plain different. But we’ve been artificially mashed together in some kind of church activity—a Bible study, a Sunday school class, a small group, a ministry team. We grudgingly do our duties but keep our guards up and our masks on. We just can’t wait until this excruciating, “forced” community is over so we can get back to the people we’re comfortable with, the people we know, the people we love.

But then there’s our preferred model of community: comfort . . . familiarity . . . friends whose names we know and whose faces we’re actually happy to see. People we spend time with outside the church, people we’d actually invite for dinner. That kind of community usually means developing warm relationships with those of our own age group, our own stage of life. We love that kind of community. It feels natural. It feels more Christian. Surely, this is the kind of community we should be striving for. Clearly, the uncomfortable and awkward community can’t possibly result in a healthy church. Obviously, spiritual growth is much more likely in a community of comfort and ease rather than personality conflict and politics.

Or is it?

True Community

Not long ago a student wandered into my office to chat. After a few minutes, the conversation moved to the pervasive politics and personality conflicts involved in Christian communities. Our brief exchange went something like this:

“It’s everywhere,” I said. “Every church or ministry deals with this.”

“But we’re Christians. It’s not supposed to be that way. Doesn’t it bother you?”

At that moment I grabbed a thick book from one end of my desk and tossed it in front of him. Pointing at the volume on the history of Christianity, I said, “This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be.” Then I placed my Bible on top of the history book. “And if you look in here, it’s exactly the same. Until Christ returns, this is the best we can hope for. But God’s Spirit works out His perfect plan in spite of us.”

It’s normal for Christians to be disappointed in Christians. We can be downright mean to each other sometimes. And if we can avoid outright conflict, there will still be frustration, inconvenience, discomfort . . . all the necessary ingredients and effects of true community.

I suggest that the more comfortable you feel in your Christian community, the less authentic the community. In 1 Corinthians 12:13 Paul writes, “For by one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free, and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.” Sometimes we read a passage like that and fail to think through its practical ramifications. Jews and Greeks didn’t get along in the ancient world. They came from completely different religious and cultural backgrounds, lived in separate communities, had different customs and languages. Slaves and free were from opposite social and economic communities. They didn’t mix well together. Division was the order of the day.

When these groups of men and women, slaves and masters, Jews and Greeks, were placed into one community, awkward discomfort—even outright conflict—ensued (read 1 Corinthians to see for yourself). That’s the natural result of mixing these diverse mini-communities into one meta-community. It was like mixing oil and water. Common sense tells us not to try. Church growth experts opt for affinity groups. Our emotions tell us to run in the other direction.

But shouldn’t Christian community transcend the natural? Shouldn’t it defy common sense? Shouldn’t it seek to overcome what “feels” good.

Confusion . . . discomfort . . . frustration . . . uneasiness . . . conflict. These are things of true community. These are the conditions that promote real spiritual growth. It’s easy to fake the fruit of the Spirit among people we pick as fellowship partners. It’s far more difficult to pretend love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control among those who irritate us. And putting our natural human inclinations to the test of real life gives God an opportunity to work among us in supernatural ways.

Living in True Community

Perhaps you’re feeling uncomfortable in your church, Bible study, Sunday school class, or fellowship group. Maybe it’s just a lingering sense that you’d fit in somewhere else. You’re probably right! But fitting in isn’t the goal of Christian community. The Spirit of God has been sent to create unity out of diversity, peace out of conflict, and healing out of wounded hearts. The greatest spiritual growth will come from overcoming differences, and the greatest testimony of God’s supernatural work in a Christian community will be the love and unity that results from taking the long, hard road of true community.

Don’t try to get out from under the sometimes excruciating conflict that comes through true community. Don’t try to seek out only those who share your opinions, your lifestyles, your careers. Rather, living in true community means caring for and fellowshipping with those who share nothing with us but the common bond of Christ. It may take time. It will certainly take faith, hope, and love. But the end result will be authentic relationships with real people based not on worldly reason or on fleeting feelings, but on the unifying work of the Spirit of God.

Scriptures I Could Do Without, Part 4: Philippians 4:13

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We all have them—passages of Scripture that we’d rather weren’t there . . . little unalterable truths we wish would just disappear . . . . statements about God or humanity that we’d like to revise. But no matter how hard we try to re-translate or re-interpret them, those convicting verses just won’t budge. And by the very fact that they torment us, they demand our attention . . . and submission.

I Can Do It!

“I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”

When we take these words of Philippians 4:13 out of context, they appear to teach that with God’s help we can accomplish anything we set our hearts on. We see the extreme form of this with the Benny Hinns and Kenneth Copelands of the world—that is, God’s in the business of making us healthy, happy, successful, and prosperous.

But the context of this passage actually turns this frame-worthy motivational verse on its head:

I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:12–13)

When Paul says he can do “all things” through Christ, he means that Christ had granted him the ability to live with plenty, and with nothing; to be satisfied with both an abundance, and with need. The key issue here is contentment . . . not ambition. It’s about being at peace with what you have or don’t have, not passionately pursuing more.

Relying on God for contentment makes perfect sense when we struggle with not having something we need or want. But why would we need to be content with having an abundance? In reality, if we reflect on the unique challenges of both the “Haves” and “Have Nots,” we’ll see that each must depend on God’s strength for contentment in either circumstance.

The Have Nots

Those who have less health, wealth, and success than others face unique spiritual struggles. I can think of three big ones.

1. The envy of others. When we can’t keep our eyes off of what other people have, it generates envy, jealousy, and covetousness. These can boil over into awful attitudes, mean-spirited comments, and evil actions. “I sure wish we could afford a car like the Joneses!” “John, why can’t you get a better job so we can have a bigger house like the Smiths?” The Bible diagnoses the problem this way: “You are envious and cannot obtain; so you fight and quarrel” (James 4:2).

2. The quest for more. When we compare what little we have with the abundance of others, it’s easy of set “more” as our primary goal. In our personal crusade for more, we would be tempted to conscript our time, energy, career, relationships, and family. But don’t do it. Heed Paul’s warning: “But those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a snare and many foolish and harmful desires which plunge men into ruin and destruction” (1 Timothy 6:9)

3. The pride of humility. Believe it or not, those with little can actually have more pride in their poverty than the rich have in their wealth. Some Christians think the poor and needy are necessarily less worldly than the rich. But this kind of spiritual pride is just as sinful as the boasts of a billionaire. Jesus said, “Many who are first will be last, and the last, first” (Mark 10:31). But seeking to be last in order to be first is really the same as seeking to be first! Just because I may have few material possessions doesn’t make me any less materialistic.

Clearly, the Have Nots need God’s gift of contentment in their humble circumstances. But what about the Haves?

The Haves

Those who have more than others also face unique spiritual struggles. Here are three.

1. Bragging and boasting. When we acquire an abundance, many of us feel like broadcasting it whenever we can. We’ll even gently steer conversations in a direction that allows us to boast. In many cases the motive can be to present ourselves as superior. It almost always involves an over-confidence in the power of wealth. Yet 1 Timothy 6:17 says, “Instruct those who are rich in this present world not to be conceited or to fix their hope on the uncertainty of riches, but on God.

2. Shame and guilt. Strangely, a common sin of the Haves is to be embarrassed about the abundance God has given them. Yes, some people who believe poverty is the ideal for the Christian may actually conceal their blessings. They may over-compensate by pretending to have less than they really do. But the wealthy should never be uncomfortable with their calling to be rich. Paul said that with their wealth, the rich are expected to “do good, to be rich in good works” (1 Timothy 6:18). Wealth is nothing to be ashamed of when it’s accompanied by humility and generosity.

3. To have and to hoard. Christian financial experts often spend more time talking about saving and investing than about giving and blessing. It seems that “stewardship” has become a synonym for “saving” or even “hoarding.” But Paul could not be more clear: the rich are to be “generous and ready to share” (1 Timothy 6:18). God blesses us so we can bless others. Ultimately, all that we have and will have belongs to the Lord.

I could go on exploring the unique challenges facing both the Haves and the Have Nots. But this should be enough to see that Paul had a reason for appealing to God’s strength to help him be content in both abundance and need. Whether you consider yourself to be a Have or a Have Not—whether it relates to health, education, wealth, or success—Paul’s prayer of contentment can apply to you: “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13).

Scriptures I Could Do Without, Part 3: John 17:14–16

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We all have them—passages of Scripture that we’d rather weren’t there . . . little unalterable truths we wish would just disappear . . . statements about God or humanity that we’d like to revise. But no matter how hard we try to re-translate or re-interpret them, those convicting verses just won’t budge. And by the very fact that they torment us, they demand our attention . . . and submission.

In the World, Not of It

“Incarnational ministry” has become a common catchphrase for many evangelicals involved in missions at home and abroad. It is often contrasted with a “colonial” approach that allegedly sought to set up Christian outposts that promoted Western language, culture, and values—little islands of colonists who converted the natives not only to Christ, but also to capitalism. But an incarnational approach attempts to bring the message of Christ in words and works that incarnated Christ for the culture—becoming an Asian to the Asians, a Hippie to the Hippies, a Postmodern to the Postmoderns. In such a way we would be imitating Christ’s example, who became a human for the humans to minister to them as they were. As I reflect on Christianity’s relationship to the world, I return continually to the prayer of Christ.

“I have given them Your word; and the world has hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not ask You to take them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.” (John 17:14–16)

Living in the world, but not of the world . . . being here, but not belonging here . . . the tremendous discomfort I feel when I think about Christ’s words makes me wish He had never said them. Christians are called to engage culture (and to disengage from it), to immerse in it (and to float above it), to relate to it (and to transcend it). It’s so easy to fall into one ditch or the other rather than to navigate along that narrow road of biblical balance. The answer must be to follow Christ’s lead with “incarnational ministry,” but what does that look like?

The Incarnational Narrative

The Bible teaches that the eternal Son of God voluntarily left His heavenly place of glory and, without ceasing to be God, also became a finite human being with a real body of flesh (John 1:1, 14; Philippians 2:6–11). God took on humanity while still remaining full deity; and upon His death and resurrection, God the Son returned to His place of glory with a resurrected and glorified human nature. I call this the “incarnational narrative”—the true story of the Son of God’s “V”-shaped act of voluntary humiliation, death, resurrection, and exaltation.

If our vision of “incarnational ministry” is to truly follow the pattern of Christ, and if we are to carefully live out the mandate to be in the world but not of the world, we must keep this incarnational narrative always before us as the only model. But sometimes I get the feeling that what many regard as “incarnational ministry” actually reflects a different story of Jesus that doesn’t quite reflect the biblical pattern of the incarnation.

True and False Incarnational Ministry

I believe that aberrant views of the incarnation—or a complete disregard for the doctrine—can lead to Christians misapplying Christ’s cultural mandate while still waving the banner of “incarnational ministry.” An ancient “adoptionist” view taught that the heavenly Christ descended upon the earthly Jesus at His baptism, or suggested that Jesus was adopted into the level of divinity at the resurrection or ascension. A variation of adoptionism suggests that the human Jesus gradually became God incarnate, growing throughout His life more and more godly, holy, and full of the Spirit until he reached a state of divinized humanity.

Another false view is a “kenotic” christology. This view—often associated with nineteenth century liberal theologians—holds that when the Son of God emptied Himself at the incarnation, He gave up His divine nature and was—during the earthly ministry—only human. Deity was exchanged for humanity. The heavenly became merely earthly.

These views fall short of the biblical incarnation. Yet sometimes what is passed off today as “incarnational ministry” seems to reflect one of these errant views rather than an orthodox incarnational view.

For instance, an approach to culture that strips Christianity of its unique identity, jettisons ancient biblical and theological forms and structures, or loses its reverence and transcendence to a casual familiarity, looks a lot like a kenotic christology. By exchanging the heavenly, timeless, and transcendent for the earthly, mundane, and culture-bound, some Postmodern Christians immerse themselves in the world without ever coming up for air. There’s such a thing as being so relevant to culture that Christians lose a unique (and, yes, offensive) Christian identity. Christians should never feel compelled to downplay theology, biblical authority, truth, and holy living for the sake of a so-called incarnational ministry. The eternal Son of God brought full divinity, truth, and holiness with Him into the world . . . and He paid dearly for it. So should we.

At the same time, we should avoid an adoptionist approach that begins with the things of the world and tries to “Christianize” or “divinize them.” Yes, we ought to redeem the things of this world for God’s glory to the degree that they reflect the original goodness of God’s creation and the image of God. But this can easily fall into the error of assuming unholy relics into the holy temple, the modern cultural equivalent of sacrificing swine on the altar or baptizing the unconverted. Not everything the world has to offer can be adopted uncritically “as is.” Not all music and movies contain secret Christian messages. Not every new organizational fad or business model should be adopted to revolutionize our ministries or to launch explosive church growth. These things might appear effective in the short term, but what are they really communicating about Christianity? And what are they reflecting about the Person and work of Christ?

From a true incarnational perspective, there is such thing as coddling too closely to culture, being both in the world and of the world. When Christ came from heaven to earth, He did not give up His unique deity, His holiness, His embodiment of truth. He was both profound and practical, theological and relevant, innovative and traditional, heavenly and earthly, spirit and flesh . . .

He was both in the world and not of it (John 17:14–16).

Scriptures I Could Do Without, Part 2: Isaiah 6:8

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We all have them—passages of Scripture that we’d rather weren’t there . . . little unalterable truths we wish would just disappear . . . . statements about God or humanity that we’d like to revise. But no matter how hard we try to re-translate or re-interpret them, those convicting verses just won’t budge. And by the very fact that they torment us, they demand our attention . . . and submission.

Here Am I!

The enthralling brilliance of God’s glory . . . the pungent aroma of incense wafting with each beat of the cherubs’ wings . . . the quaking foundations of the heavenly temple—in the midst of an unparalleled experience that made Moses’s barefooted brush with the burning bush pale in comparison, the prophet Isaiah received his call to ministry:

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” (Isaiah 6:8)

As a new believer I loved Isaiah 6:8. I’ve lost count of the number of sermons that used this passage to persuade men and women to go to the mission field or to support those who had already answered the call. Because all believers are called to “go into all the world” (Mark 16:15) and to “go and make disciples” (Matthew 28:19), I always got the impression that if we’d just answer the call like Isaiah—Here am I!—then the flames of revival would blaze across the land.

Or would they?

On Second Thought . . .

When Isaiah stepped forward without hesitation, God gave him his assignment:

“Go, and tell this people: ‘Keep on listening, but do not perceive; keep on looking, but do not understand.’ Render the hearts of this people insensitive, their ears dull, and their eyes dim, lest they see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and return and be healed.” (Isaiah 6:9–10)

This probably wasn’t the mission Isaiah expected. Perhaps he had in mind a ministry like Moses, complete with signs and wonders, epoch-changing bursts of startling new revelations, and something akin to the first great exodus out of Egypt. Maybe images of the great judges of Hebrew lore ran through his mind—heroes like Ehud, Gideon, Samson, and Samuel. Maybe even an impossible mission against unreasonable odds like David against Goliath.

But this? What kind of mission was this? “Render the hearts of this people insensitive, their ears dull, and their eyes dim.”

Isaiah had already agreed to the task. There was no way out now. So he asked a reasonable question: “Lord, how long?” (Isaiah 6:11). How long would he have to preach a message that does nothing but increases the hardness of his hearers’ hearts? A week? A month?

God answered:

“Until cities are devastated and without inhabitant, houses are without people, and the land is utterly desolate, the Lord has removed men far away, and the forsaken places are many in the midst of the land.” (Isaiah 6:11–12)

. . . Send Someone Else!

When I read it in light of the reality of Isaiah’s mission to his people, Isaiah 6:8 is a Scripture I could do without. Why? Because if God could call Isaiah to a ministry of hardness of heart in which people shrink away from God’s Word, the numbers dwindle, and God reduces the faithful to a mere remnant, He could call me to one, too.

You see, from God’s perspective the success of Isaiah’s mission was utter failure in the world’s eyes. Isaiah may have expected to be the Jonathan Edwards or Billy Graham of the ancient world, turning a sinful nation back to God, ushering in a golden age of justice and righteousness, spreading peace and prosperity to all people. After all, Isaiah’s was a ministry specially anointed by God.

The reality of Isaiah’s call into ministry was just the opposite: “Isaiah, preach to them. I’m going to harden their hearts so they won’t understand or listen to you. Keep preaching. Then I’ll send judgments on them for ignoring your message. A lot of people will die. Keep preaching. Your countrymen will curse you as they’re being dragged into exile. Keep preaching. Then they’ll kill you. But don’t worry. I’ll be with you to the end.”

It’s a wonder Isaiah didn’t respond to God’s call with the words of Moses: “O Lord, please send someone else!” (Exodus 4:13, NIV).

“Failing” for the Glory of God

Let’s just admit it. In our numbers-driven, bottom-line culture, intoxicated by the runner’s high of the rat race, an Isaiah-like ministry of purging and pruning looks like utter failure. Yet history is filled with periods in which the true Christian church, preaching the true gospel of Christ, encountered nothing but opposition, persecution, and unpopularity. In historical periods like those, “Christianity” could grow massively only by changing the unchangeable message, starving the gospel of its controversial claims, then dressing its emaciated body in the latest cultural fashions and parading it along the catwalk of the world. You see, the world will always ooh and ahh over a made-up gospel. But in a post-modern, post-Christian era like ours, the right preaching of the gospel will often lead to ridicule, rejection, and, ultimately, a dwindling congregation. Call me a cynic, but I believe the twenty-first century church is facing a decision—change the gospel and “thrive,” or stay true to the ancient faith and survive.

A calling like Isaiah’s is hard to swallow today. The temptation will always be to temper the message to the lukewarm world or tamper with its truths to match the transitory trends of society. But regardless of the outcome of our preaching, teaching, and evangelism, we are all still called to faithfully preach the message God has given us, even if it means preaching it to a culture deaf and blind to its truth . . . even if it means “failing” for the glory of God.