“And she covered herself with a veil, and she wrapped herself, and she sat at the opening of eyes…” — Gen. 38:14

The tale of Judah and Tamar has stimulated readers for millennia. The narrative includes grief, family loss, sexual intrigue, the threat of death, chilling suspense, and, underlying it all, deep irony. Irony occurs in a story when a character’s expected action or circumstance is juxtaposed with a different, often opposite action or circumstance. For instance, it would be ironic if a fire station burned down. This is ironic because what we expect — that a fire station would be the most equipped to put out a fire — is met with a different or opposite reality.

The use of irony can serve a number of non-exclusive purposes. These include humor, criticism, or even condemnation. We shall examine the story of Judah and Tamar and note how it uses irony to criticize Judah’s behavior in a quite amusing way. We will first introduce the story, then we will consider the ironic dynamic between its two main characters.

Genesis 38 opens with Judah’s departure from his brothers. After settling in a Canaanite town, Judah married a woman, had three sons, and found a wife named Tamar for his firstborn. Due to the wickedness of Judah’s firstborn, the Lord put him to death, leaving Tamar a childless widow. As was customary at the time for widows without children, Tamar was married off to Judah’s second born in order to bear a child in the name of her deceased husband. However, Judah’s second born was likewise wicked and, as a consequence, he died too.

Fearing the boys’ death was in some way due to Tamar, Judah was reluctant to give her in marriage to his third son. He sent her to her father’s house to live as a widow with the promise to give her in marriage at a later time. That time never came.

The Use of Narrative Irony

“The entrance of Enaim”

Some time later, Judah went on a trip to Timnah to visit his sheep shearers. It is at this point in the narrative that we begin to encounter some highly ironic events. When Tamar heard about her father-in-law’s travels, she does three things. First, she “took off her widow’s clothing” (Gen. 38:14). Why does she take off the clothing that signals her status as a widow? The narrator is silent with regard to motive, leaving the reader to search for Tamar’s intention as the story progresses. At this point we might assume she took off her widow’s clothing because she intends to present herself as marriageable for Judah’s third son. However, we must keep reading to see if this possibility plays out.

Second, Tamar “covered herself with a veil (Heb: ṣāꜥiyp̱)” (Gen. 38:14). The only other story in the Bible to feature a veilis when Rebekah meets her husband Isaac for the first time: “and she took the veil (Heb: ṣāꜥiyp̱) and she covered herself” (Gen. 24:65). This reinforces our previous hypothesis that Tamar is getting ready to meet her new husband. Third, “she wrapped herself up (Heb: ꜥālap̱)” (Gen. 34:14). This is a difficult word which has been variously understood by interpreters as “covering oneself” or, perhaps, “disguising oneself” (see BDB, עָלַף). While covering oneself could simply imply the use of a traveling cloak, the possibility of a disguise should raise questions: Is Tamar preparing herself to meet her new husband, or is she up to something else?

Finally, “she sat at the entrance (Heb: peṯaḥ) of Enaim (Heb: ꜥēynayim)” (Gen. 38:14). The “entrance of Enaim” has been translated both as “an open place” (e.g., KJV, NKJV) and “the gate/opening/entrance of [a place called] Enaim” (e.g., NLT, NIV, ESV, NASB, etc.). However, since Enaim (Heb: ꜥēynayim) means “eyes,” and the Hebrew word “peṯaḥ” means “opening,” the underlying Hebrew phrase can literally be rendered, “she sat at the opening of eyes.”

What is the significance of a place named “the opening of eyes?” The concept of eyes being opened is a common figure of speech for discovery — just think of the hymn Amazing Grace: “I once was blind, but now I see.” So the fact that Tamar would cover herself, maybe even disguise herself, at a place called “the opening of eyes” is highly ironic. We must keep reading to see how this line of irony develops.

“She covered her face”

When Judah came by the “opening of eyes,” he saw his daughter-in-law. Unfortunately for him, he did not recognize her. Rather, “He thought she was a prostitute, since she covered her face” (Gen. 38:15). Here we find a brilliant contrast between action and setting: “covered” vs. “opening;” “face” vs. “eyes.” While Judah might have encountered Tamar at the opening of eyes, Judah’s eyes, thanks to Tamar, were indeed shut.

Since he thought she was a prostitute, Judah propositioned his unrecognizable daughter-in-law for sex. It is left ambiguous whether this was intended by Tamar or if this was a surprise. Regardless, once the offer was made, Tamar took advantage of the blinded Judah. Since Judah’s payment for sex would be delayed, she asked for a pledge in the form of his signet ring, cord, and staff. Once securing the pledge, Tamar let Judah come into her, and she conceived.

“Please Recognize!”

When Judah heard that Tamar was pregnant, he was (ironically) indignant. He then sent for her to be brought out and burned to death. However, as she was brought to her accuser, she made a request that would result in her vindication. She sent a message to Judah saying, “By the man who owns these, I am pregnant … please recognize whose these are, the signet ring, the cord, and the staff” (Gen. 28:25). Immediately, “Judah recognized” that these items belonged to him and that he in fact was the father of Tamar’s unborn child.

Amusingly, the man who previously failed to recognize his daughter-in-law’s identity recognizes the items that lead to both her vindication and his condemnation. But beyond mere amusement, this ironic turn of events is a perfect example of measure-for-measure justice in biblical narrative. We might remember from Genesis 37 that both Judah and his brothers plotted the death of their younger brother, Joseph. In a turn of events, Judah suggested that, rather than kill their brother, they ought to sell him into slavery. Needing an explanation to give their father for their brother’s sudden absence, the brothers spun a story about Joseph being killed by a wild animal. In order to make this believable, they took Joseph’s robe, dipped it in blood, and asked Jacob to “recognize whether it is [Joseph’s] robe or not” (Gen. 37:32). As Judah urged his father to “recognize” the robe of his son, resulting in deception, now Tamar urges Judah to “recognize” his own possessions, resulting in his condemnation.

As we have seen, Genesis 38 is filled with narrative irony. From the location of certain events (Enaim) to the function of clothing in the drama (Tamar’s veil, Judah’s signet ring, etc.), the story, which in many ways strikes a serious tone, is laced with humor aimed at criticizing and, ultimately, condemning Judah. Of the many things we could conclude in light of this brief survey, one fact is inescapable: our God, the divine author of Scripture, has a creative, often ironic, sense of justice.

We all know that Joy is one of the great themes of Christmas, and perhaps you’ve recently (this past Christmas season) heard a sermon or even engaged in singing a song about joy. The one that comes most naturally to my mind (probably because I’ve heard it my whole life) is “Joy to the World.” You probably know the lyrics by heart: “Joy to the world; The Lord has come; / Let Earth receive her King; / Let ev’ry heart prepare him room, / and heav’n and nature sing …” The funny thing about that song is that it wasn’t written for Christmas, which, of course, celebrates the first coming of Christ, but rather, the song anticipates the second coming of Christ when “He rules the world with truth and grace …” Then, perpetual joy will be the air we breathe, and it’s for that day we long. But until then, are we limited to just a few days out of the year to expect joy? No. As God’s people, joy is an aspect of our inheritance. As a Christian, you’re born of the Spirit, indwelt by the Spirit, and a partaker of the fruit of the Spirit, which is, among other things, Joy. What a blessing to know that joy is available to us continually through the presence of the Spirit in our lives.

But what is joy? It seems that joy is one of those things you know when you’re experiencing it, but it’s difficult to define. In the New Testament, the Greek word chara is translated as joy; that word is also translated as gladness, cheerfulness, and delight. An English dictionary defines joy as a feeling of “peace, contentment, happiness, and delight.” That sounds about right, but some would argue that happiness and joy are different. Happiness, they say, is a more conscious appraisal of how we feel over time, dependent on a range of external factors. I do agree that happiness is generally contingent upon circumstances. In reading up on joy, I found, believe it or not, a scientific definition. Here it is. “Joy has been described as an intense, internal experience of positive emotion accessed in small moments: smiling, laughing, jumping for joy.” Funny enough, the scientific definition resonated with me most.

Lately, there are two things in my life that have resulted in the experience described in the scientific definition of joy: my four-year-old grandson (who’s living with us right now) and his cat — Batman, whom he named. Remi, my grandson who has to be one of the brightest four-year-olds ever, will come up with questions or comments or even sayings that will instantly put the biggest smile on my face and fill me with feelings of delight. A couple of weeks ago, Cheryl and I drove him through some of the neighborhoods near our house to look at the Christmas lights; kids love to look at Christmas lights. As we drove along one block, Remi suddenly commented that the people in that neighborhood weren’t very creative. I felt the joy rising within as I wondered how in the world a four-year-old could even come up with a thought like that.

Then, there’s Batman. Our dog, Barnabas, lives to take a daily walk. When he sees us getting dressed in our walking clothes or shoes, or we happen to say the word “walk,” he goes completely nuts with excitement. At that, the cat will casually walk up and smack him on the snout, as if to say, “You’re out of control; get it together,” and then casually walk away. Between the hilarious things Remi says and the cool cat attitude of Batman, I’ve had lots of those moments of smiling and laughing lately. Lots of joy in the scientific sense and lots of thankfulness to God for such wonderful little moments.

But surely the Bible is talking about something far deeper than that when it talks about joy, isn’t it? I think so. C.S. Lewis, who used the term joy to describe his own spiritual experiences, gave his autobiography the title Surprised by Joy. In a letter to a friend, Lewis wrote: “… Joy … must be sharply distinguished from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again.”

Lewis believed that joy, although similar, was distinct from happiness and pleasure. I think he was right, especially when we associate joy with God, which is what the Bible bids us to do. “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice!” says Paul the Apostle (Philippians 4:4). Nehemiah reminded the people of his day, “The joy of the LORD is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). The biblical understanding of joy is rooted in God and His eternal goodness, which is always present toward those who believe, and this is how joy and happiness are distinguished. Joy is not contingent upon outward circumstances, as is happiness, but is always available because God is, and He is always good.

As we leave behind the joyful season and enter a new year filled with uncertainties and temptations toward worry and fear, let’s remember joy can be ours all year long. Our first and greatest cause for joy is Jesus himself, who loves us with an everlasting love, who has an eternal plan and purpose for our lives, and who has promised to be with us always, even to the end of the age. As we believe that and continue to press deeper and deeper into our relationship with Him through His word and fellowship with His people, our forever family, as we worship and serve Him and live more intentionally into His story, joy will mark our path, and the joy of the Lord will be our daily strength. “For the kingdom of God is … righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Romans 14:17).

This life will have unavoidable pain, sorrow and grief. In light of this universal truth, it is an interesting philosophical, ethical, moral, and existential matter to contemplate whether bringing a child into the world is “right, just, or good” in light of the relevant balance of happiness and heartache. Nevertheless, there is a reality that can tip the scales towards a conclusion that it is right, just, and good. The transcendent hope of the universe that provides true comfort despite the hardships of life in our world is found in Jesus’ resurrection and return. These comforting words are found in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 and are intended to be shared. So, I would like to share them with you, and we can share them with many.

The Hope of The Resurrection

In the midst of exhortations to rejoice always (1Th. 5:16-18), Paul affirmed that believers also grieve and sorrow (1Th. 4:13). Jesus’ followers are not insulated from the universal experience of pain, suffering, loss, grief, and sorrow. Jesus’ followers have a hope that provides comfort for the grieving that unbelievers do not have (4:13), but that doesn’t eliminate the reality of pain or despair.

Most of us have attended a funeral, memorial service, or celebration of life where someone made the comment regarding the departed, “They’re in a better place …” The great deception is that you do not need Jesus to get to heaven, or that there is no heaven. According to Pew Research (Dec. 2023), 71% of American adults believe in heaven. Is there some reasonable basis for why they believe the departed is in a better place? God does not want people to be ignorant or uninformed about what happens upon the death of a body.

What makes the hope of heaven different for a follower of Jesus is the truth that Jesus died and rose again (14). The gospel message, that you can be restored in your relationship with God through faith in Christ, rests on the reality of Jesus’ resurrection (1Cor. 15). The evidence of Christ’s resurrection is beyond a reasonable doubt. His followers can have confidence that they too will be resurrected. Whether we have passed from this earth before His return or whether we are alive when He comes, his followers have nothing to fear. Jesus will return with us or for us, and bring believers who passed before His return (14).

I do not fear death. Some methods of dying appear more attractive than others, but death itself does not worry me. When I leave this earth, I know that I will be in the presence of Jesus; and I will be more alive than ever before. To live is Christ and to die is gain (Ph. 1:21-24). It is not a “death wish” in some nihilistic view that nothing matters, but an awareness of heaven.

The hope of the resurrection, and His gospel, is that when you leave this earth, you can spend eternity in the very presence of God with no more heartache, suffering, or despair, only pure contentment in Christ’s presence.

Share The Hope of The Resurrection (1Th. 4:18)

“Therefore comfort one another with these words.”

Comfort the grieving.

Paul understood, God understands, and we need to be aware that people in our midst are grieving the loss of loved ones.
As a follower of Jesus, you should be comforted by the truth that any loved one who responded to the gospel with faith in Jesus will be in God’s presence when they leave this earth; and you will be united with them for eternity in perfection.

Holidays can exacerbate the sense of loss, grief, or mourning. The hope of the resurrection should flow from our lips to comfort others not as a trite expression to silence the grieving, but as the true hope that it is. This hope does not stop grief or mourning, but completely reshapes the experience. So, listen well and then comfort.

What we learn from the saved thief on the cross (Matt. 27:44) is that we are all sinners in need of a Savior, and no matter what we have done, it is not too late to repent and accept the free gift of salvation (Eph. 2:8-9). So, we may be surprised that some who we suspect never received Jesus will in fact be with Him.

Strengthen the weary.

We are to encourage which means to strengthen, comfort, instruct, and exhort about the reality of the resurrection. My greatest comfort lies not in the hope that everything will work out the way I want in this life, but that everything will be perfect in the life to come; and compared to glory with Christ, these present struggles seem like light affliction (2Cor. 4:17-18). That does not minimize the intensity of our struggles in this life, but relative to glory, they are light. That hope strengthens the weary. Since we know that our struggles are temporary, but glory in heaven is eternal, it should lighten our perception of the struggle(s). When you are living for Christ, you are living for eternity and know the comfort of Christ’s hope, and share that hope with others.

Focus on eternity in heaven.

Our hope is to be firmly rooted in the reality of life with Christ, today and forever. This hope comforts me in the challenges that I have experienced, the struggles of today, and the certain hardships of tomorrow. The reality of heaven tips the scales towards a conclusion that it is right, just, and good to bring a child into this world because it is the only way to enter into Christ’s world. The transcendent hope of the universe that provides true comfort despite the hardships of life in our world is found in Jesus’ resurrection, return, and eternity with Him in heavenly perfection. Jesus has not delayed His return because He is slack, but because He is longsuffering and does not want any to perish, but all to repent and receive eternal life (2 Pet.3:9). Today, we are all invited to receive and share the comfort of Christ’s hope.

While reflecting on Romans 6:1-14—a passage worth revisiting regularly—I found a profound answer to the problem of sin: the transforming power of grace. Paul begins with a rhetorical question, “What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?” (Romans 6:1). He immediately refutes this misunderstanding: “By no means!” (6:2). For Paul, grace isn’t a license to sin; it’s a call to a transformed life.

Paul explains that those in Christ have “died to sin” through baptism, symbolizing an end to the old life. “We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead … we too may live a new life” (6:4). This new life is a rebirth—freed from sin’s bondage and empowered to live for God. Paul emphasizes that “our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin” (6:6). This crucifixion breaks sin’s hold, allowing believers to live under grace’s reign.

The passage culminates in a powerful declaration of freedom: “For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace” (6:14). Living under grace enables us to overcome sin, not indulge in it, as God’s Spirit transforms our hearts and actions.

This transformation by the Spirit underscores that a nominal, “in name only” Christianity, is impossible. True Christianity demands a life that reflects Christ’s teachings. Paul’s words in Romans 6:6, “that we should no longer be slaves to sin,” echo Jesus’ call to authentic discipleship, seen when He spoke of bearing one’s cross (Luke 9:23) and condemned lukewarm faith (Revelation 3:15-16). Faith here isn’t a label but a transformative relationship with Christ—“… sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace” (6:14).

Nominal Christianity, which only engages with faith superficially, misses this transformation and the depth of life in Christ. In essence, the concept of “nominal Christianity” contradicts the very heart of the gospel, which calls for an active, committed life in Christ affecting every aspect of our being. Anything less fails to capture the fullness of genuine faith.

“Thou that hast giv’n so much to me,
Give one thing more, a gratefull heart:
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Not thankfull when it pleaseth me,
As if Thy blessings had spare days;
But such a heart whose pulse may be
Thy praise.“
(George Herbert, “Gratefulnesse,” 1633)

There is a tendency I have noticed in myself: I am quick to pray and ask God for things that I need. In fact, if I were to categorize my prayers, the majority are requests. There is nothing inherently wrong with this; Jesus encouraged us to ask the Father for what we need (e.g., Matthew 7:7-11). When we ask God to do things that are beyond our capabilities, we honor Him because it shows that we believe in his power and ability, and it expresses our reliance on Him. I often encourage our church to honor the Lord by praying for big and great things rather than assuming that such things are “too big” for Him.

However, the tendency I have noticed in myself is that I often fail to stop, reflect, and thank God for the things that He has done, and the prayers He has answered. I am quick to move on to the next need or the next task without stopping to praise God for His provision and His faithfulness.

A Lesson from the Lepers (Luke 17:11-12)

In the Gospel of Luke, we read about a time when Jesus passed between Samaria and Galilee. As He entered a certain village, He was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and cried out to Jesus, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.”

These lepers were helpless, and they were hopeless. Their incurable disease not only destroyed their bodies but also made them outcasts from society. Cut off from their families, communities, and places of worship, their lives were characterized by isolation and suffering.

Leprosy is often recognized as a type, or a picture, of sin and what sin does in our lives. Like leprosy, sin leads to a hardening of the heart, a loss of feeling; it causes a person to lose parts of themselves, and it ultimately ruins them and leads to death. Because there was no cure for leprosy, the fact that Jesus healed lepers was a sign that He was the Messiah (Matthew 11:2-5).

Hearing their cries for help, Jesus had mercy on these ten lepers, and He healed them. He told them to go and show themselves to the priests so that the priests could inspect them according to the Law of Moses (Leviticus 13-14), to verify that they had been healed and pronounce them as clean so they could be restored to society.

Quickly, the ten lepers ran off, overjoyed and eager to have their cleansing verified by the priests — but one of them stopped and turned back. While the others ran off ahead, this one returned and “praising God in a loud voice, he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving thanks” (Luke 17:15-16).

To make the story even more surprising, Jesus points out that the one who returned to give thanks was a Samaritan, a group whom many Jews considered themselves superior to. Jesus then expressed His consternation that, whereas ten were healed, only one returned to give thanks and praise God for what he had received.

Pausing to Praise and Give Thanks

This story challenges us to consider our own actions: When God hears your prayers, how do you respond?

Like those lepers, those whose faith is in Jesus have been cleansed from an incurable condition; we have been saved from death and destruction and given a new destiny. Additionally, we have experienced God’s faithfulness through His provision. God hears our prayers and has provided for our needs. How ought we to respond to this?

There is nothing wrong with making requests of God; not only does He invite us to do it, but we honor Him by doing so. However, what we see from this passage is the importance of returning to the Lord, acknowledging what He has done, and thanking Him and praising Him for His faithfulness and goodness.

For those who are celebrating Thanksgiving this week, we have the opportunity to do just that. May this Thanksgiving holiday be a reminder to us to stop and give thanks, and may it spark a habit of thanksgiving in our hearts that lasts throughout the year.

I’m finally getting around to reading one of those books I’ve heard quoted by a ton of authors and podcasters, “A Secular Age” by Charles Taylor. Although I’m far from finishing this massive book, I highly recommend it to anyone in ministry because it describes how Western Culture became post-Christian. Honestly, what I’ve read still occupies my thoughts, even months later! He spoke about the role of the Church in ushering in a secular society. Yes, our role in the current secular society!

In speaking about how Protestantism, notably Calvinism and Puritanism, tended toward the disciplined life and removing superstition in worship, something else was lost. Taylor observed that emptying Churches of Sacred Art and eliminating the feasts and beliefs that stemmed from a more “magical” past, opened the door to the Enlightenment thinkers who used the same arguments to remove God from the public scene.

He writes, “Now both their action in expelling the sacred from worship and social life, and the instrumental stance they take to things and to society in the course of building their order, tends to drive out the enchantment from the world. This becomes progressively voided of its spirits and meaningful forces, and more and more the disenchanted world we are familiar with.”^[1] Among other practices, Taylor is suggesting that our Protestant heritage and demystifying worship hasn’t just led to “dead orthodoxy” but has played into the hand of atheist thinkers. Now, that’s when I began to wonder, is this true?

We must not oversimplify what took Charles Taylor hundreds of pages to write. He also carefully admits that Luther, Calvin, and the Puritans preached and lived dependent on the Spirit of God. They were in no way promoting a doctrine of spiritless Christianity. But, there was no mistake in the slow progression towards a secular society. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to us in Calvary Chapel. Taylor’s idea goes with the same critique of the church we’ve been known to make. A church out of step with the Spirit and missing the culture, from which God sent a revival that birthed our church movement.

Here is how it applies to us: have our screens, controversies, and continued status quo emptied us of our spark? All the while, Gen Z and the Millennials turn toward a newer version of an ancient spirituality as Esmé Partridge describes in her article.^[2] These past years have been complicated by any measure, and a pervasive heaviness can be felt. Sure, we live by the Spirit and see God moving, but is the holy awe of His presence still there?

Thinking about the loss of the spiritual in favor of the secular, it can also be said differently. Herein, I turn to GK Chesterton in Orthodoxy writing about insanity. “Imagination does not breed insanity. Exactly what does breed insanity is reason. Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom … And though St. John the Evangelist saw many strange monsters in his vision, he saw no creature so wild as one of his own commentators. The general fact is simple. Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and so make it finite.”^[3]

Sometimes, we keep things reasonable in ministry, look for formulas that provide success, and organize like mathematicians rather than prophets listening to the Spirit. We become like the commentators of Revelation he describes. This is the insanity Chesterton sets as a philosophical groundwork for Taylor. He opened the window for us to see the healthy Spirit-filled “magic” in the works of Narnia and Middle Earth — not to mention the poets and artists who have brought life and beauty into our gospel communities. Losing the spark of a holy enchantement, an awe inspired longing for the Holy and His faithful loving working in our lives, might be our undoing.

There’s another aspect of this. It’s the tired, humdrum life of routine. It follows the same plan every Sunday because that’s how we do it. It’s making each church body a homogenized replica of an idea from the headquarters. It’s toeing the line. This is also a loss of the “magic” because we no longer follow a conviction, a leading of the Spirit, as much as an external concept. This isn’t to say that every movement has its distinctives and philosophies of ministry, which are healthy and necessary in their own right. But we know when things have gone mechanical, and this is Chesterton’s mathematician resurfacing again. This place can be tiring. The only place to find released relief is in the words of Jesus (Matthew 11:28-30).

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (ESV).

“Come to me,” the Lord says because He knows, because He would exchange secular-minded mathematician with the poet or prophet, or the one He’s created us to be. We can find it only as we rest in Jesus, taking His yoke on ourselves.

Oddly enough, the non-Christian world hasn’t become less spiritual as some of the older new atheists like Richard Dawkins would have us think. Recently, a friend shared a podcast with me, “The Surprising Rebirth of Belief in God” by Justin Brierley, chronicling how they lost public favor to religious thinking. Spiritual thinking seems to be growing, like paganism in the US, as seen in this surprising Cambridge^[4] study, in France as philosopher Chantal Delsol’s “La fin de la chrétienté” (The End of Christianity) shows the social progression from a culture dominated by Catholicism to one reminiscent of Roman Paganism or on a more worldwide scene with WitchTok.

Though spiritism, metaphysical exploration, and similar philosophies are alive and well in our Western society, some might relent and say they are just part of the gods of the secular age. A sign of the times. But I don’t see that as much as an obstacle as a new open door. Our Gospel transforms and brings life to all who will come. If the world around us is looking for life in the spiritual, then our Gospel has as much, if not more, to say to them than it did in the pagan era Paul preached in.

With this in mind, I believe Taylor’s observation should lead us to Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11. He is the One who carries us. His burden is indeed light, as He restores our soul. In so doing, I believe the mathematician will melt away to the awe-inspired lover of God, filled with the spark of joy in the Spirit.

Footnotes

^[1] Charles Taylor, A Secular Age (Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2007), 83.
^[2] Esmé Partridge, “Disenchantment, or Dark Enchantment?”, https://www.esmelkpartridge.com/post/disenchantment-or-dark-enchantment
^[3] G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (Christian Classics Ethereal Library), 9.
https://www.ccel.org/ccel/c/chesterton/orthodoxy/cache/orthodoxy.pdf
^[4] Here’s an interesting study from Cambridge on the subject: https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/politics-and-religion/article/abs/political-profile-of-us-pagans/5EBF4A0BCFCB4B96FDC235505F5A9A16

Editor’s Note: Click here to access Part 1 of this article, published on October 29, 2024.

3. We look to Jesus because he looked ahead to the joy set before him.

For Jesus, the end was always in mind. He didn’t set his eyes like a flint merely to Calvary — no, all along he had his eyes fixed to what was beyond Calvary, beyond the cross. Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:21 He who knew no sin became sin. Jesus didn’t just interact with sinners, go play in the sandbox for a few minutes, and get his hands a little messy. He became sin. He wore our shame. Anyone who has ever been scandalously caught, embarrassingly exposed, or sexually abused can identify with this concept of despising the shame. Sin that causes shame is disgraceful. It’s dirty-ing. That’s why most people who are raped feel the unprovoked urge to shower — they need cleansing. Jesus despised the shame of sin and sinners — how? By looking ahead at the joy set before him.

What was that joy? Some would say, “Being resurrected and back in fellowship with the Father.” Maybe. Others would argue, “The joy set before Jesus was going back to Heaven glorified.”

Doubtful. I think the joy that was set before Jesus, beyond the cross, was a pure and spotless Bride who would be arrayed in glory and grace! A people who once were not a people, brought near through his blood! Sinners who had been saved from the wrath of God, set free from their sin, no longer fearing death or judgment!

What was the joy set before Jesus? You, and me. A restored creation, a restored fellowship, a true union of Christ with his people. That’s what gave him hupomone (endurance) with every lash, every accusation, every agonizing breath. In our own race, we too get to enter into the joy of our Master, into a resurrection joy that no one can take from us.

Paul told the Ephesian elders that “none of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy.” If our eyes are fixed on our failures, our pain, our despair, we will falter. We (like Peter) will find ourselves enamored with the wind and waves and find our feet slipping. We will one day be with our Lord, and no light or momentary trouble will compare in weight to the glory of that joyful bliss. So, we look to Jesus, who all along had the end in mind.

4. We look to Jesus because he’s now seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Where’s Jesus now? He’s not hanging on the cross; he’s seated in glory. We, like the Hebrew Christians in the first century, might be going through trouble, but it isn’t the last chapter!

Ephesians 2 actually says those who are in Christ are already seated with him in the heavenly realms. We are already there! Romans 8 describes our salvation, and it almost seems like Paul is describing our glorification as “past tense,” as already happened!

Even today, Jesus is seated at the right hand of the throne of God, making intercession for us. Cross exchanged for crown. Have you forgotten, weary Christian, that that Day is coming? There are days when the Celestial City looks imminent, and other days when the finish line seems like it will never come. But we look to Jesus.

Verse 3 tells us why: “so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.”

This was a particularly encouraging word for the struggling Hebrew Christians who received this letter in the first century, but this verse isn’t just for them. Does fainthearted or weary describe your race as of late? You may even be wondering how you’re going to even finish this race?

You’re heavy laden, you’re weary, you’re discouraged, or you may even be in the darkest place of your spiritual life yet.

May I encourage you with something the Lord has shown me in the past year? In the last 12 months, I’ve had some of the toughest, if not darkest, moments of my entire life. Yet, even in the chasm of agony, the Lord has proven himself faithful. There were times I was tempted to drop out of the race, or say “Lord, I can’t go on,” but the Lord proved he is indeed near to the brokenhearted.

The Summer Games of 1992 in Barcelona had all the highlights we expect from the Olympics, with the skill and stamina of the human body on full display. However, it was that year’s 400-meter race that held one of Olympic history’s most shocking moments. Derek Redmond, the lightning-fast Brit who had won the 4×400 meter relay in the European and World Championships that year, was the favorite to win the 400-meter individual race. The men lined up, the gun sounded, and Redmond shot off from the starting line, quickly finding himself in the obvious lead. Rounding the turn into the backstretch, Redmond suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot up the back of his leg, causing him to fall face first onto the track. What happened next was nothing short of unpredictable and astonishing.

The pain Derek felt was his right hamstring tearing. As medical attendants began approaching, Redmond fought to his feet. “It was animal instinct,” he would say later. He tried to keep running, but could only resort to hopping, in a crazed attempt to finish his race. When he reached the final stretch, suddenly a large man in a T-shirt erupted down from the stands, hurling aside a security guard as he ran to Redmond, embracing him. Who was this determined fan? It was none other than Jim Redmond, Derek’s father. He told his weeping son, “You don’t have to finish the race,” to which Derek replied, “Yes, I do, Dad.”

With compassion, Jim looked at him and said, “Well, then, son, we’re going to finish this race together.” That’s exactly what they did. (You can Google this. It was captured on video, and it’s emotional and powerful!) Fighting off security men, Derek’s head sometimes deep into his father’s shoulder, they slowly approached the finish line all the way to the end. The crowd watched — first perplexed — then, rising to their feet, they began to cheer, with some weeping. Derek didn’t walk away with the gold medal, but he walked away with an incredible memory of a father who, when he saw his son in pain, left his seat in the stands to help him finish the race.

That’s what our God has done for us. He didn’t yell from the stands for us to “get to work” or “do better; try harder”! That’s not the Gospel. He stepped down, and picked up broken, weary sinners, and completed the work he promised to begin. Since we’re surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let’s also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let’s run with endurance the race that’s set before us, looking to Jesus.

Beloved, he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ. So, keep running. Keep your eyes fixed on Jesus. One day, your eyes will meet his face to face, and you and I will hear those words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Master.” Even so, come Lord Jesus.

The Bible often likens our Christian life to running a race, and it’s a great metaphor for a few reasons. First, running, like the Christian life, is grueling! Running our race as Christians may be simple, but it’s not easy. The race metaphor is also helpful because it’s step by step. It’s moving somewhere. It’s progressive. Something’s wrong if our Christian life looks like running endlessly on a treadmill in some random garage, living the same year thirty times over and over.

Thankfully, we’re going somewhere! We’re being sanctified, we’re (hopefully) gaining ground, moving toward Christlikeness, becoming more like Jesus — and there’s a finish line! Also, Paul loved to use this race metaphor to remind us we’re not running someone else’s race. What a good reminder — I don’t need to be someone else — I can run my race. The race metaphor is so instructive for those starting their life pursuing Jesus and seeking to live wholeheartedly for him.

Which brings us to Hebrews chapter 12. The book of Hebrews addresses Jewish believers (hence the name, Hebrews) who were likely facing persecution and social pressure to abandon their faith in Jesus and return to the comfort of their traditional Jewish religious practices. In many ways, Hebrews reads like a sermon, which in my opinion was most likely an actual sermon preached by Paul and written down/recorded by Barnabas. (But if you disagree, I won’t die on that hill — please don’t @me!)

If Hebrews was a sermon, it would be a sermon all about the supremacy of Christ, how Jesus is greater, Jesus is better:

• He’s better than a written word of prophecy or the angels (ch 1).
• Jesus is better than man’s dominion over creation (ch. 2).
• Jesus is better than Moses or Joshua (ch. 3-4).
• Jesus is better than the high priests (ch. 5), the old covenant (ch.8), the tabernacle or sacrifices (ch. 9-10).
• He’s better than any of our heroes of the faith, because he’s the pioneer and perfecter of faith itself, bringing to completion what they all longed for and pointed toward (ch. 11).

Then we come to chapter 12 verse 1, which gives us a “therefore.” Therefore, in light of all of these truths, these proofs of how Jesus is superior to the promises and types of the Old Testament, the practical application is for us as believers to look to Jesus, to Christ alone. Look at verses 1-4:

1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founderand perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and isseated at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. 4 In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.

Notice that even though there’s a great cloud of witnesses cheering us on, we’re not looking at them. There may be a finish line, but we’re not looking at that. According to verse 2, where are we looking? To Jesus!

There are four reasons that the Hebrews (and all believers) should look to Jesus as we run our race of faith:

1. We look to Jesus because he’s the founder and perfecter of our faith.

The Greek word “founder” in verse 2 could very well be translated the trailblazer, the pioneer, or the forerunner. Jesus is the founder, but he’s also the perfecter. He not only inaugurated (past-tense), but he also will complete (future tense) our faith — not just in a universal sense (i.e., that our faith as Christians is in Jesus) but also in a personal sense. Philippians 1:6 says he who began a good work in us will complete it!

Think about those in the hall of faith, just one chapter prior. Abraham’s faith, filled with lapses of lying and Hagar, is now perfected. Samson’s faith, marred by sinfulness and selfishness and childish riddles and bad haircuts, is now perfected. David’s faith, strong in his youth but marred by scandal in his later years, is now perfected. Let’s not even get started with Jacob, Gideon, Solomon, or Jesus’ disciples!

We look not to ourselves to run this race but to the One who founded and will perfect it in us. So many Christians act like Jesus’ three final words from the cross were not “It Has Finished,” but instead, “It Has Started.” In other words, they live as though Jesus merely kicked off the Christian faith with his substitutionary death — but now the real work, the deepwork, the behind-the-scenes grit and grind are up to us!

Isn’t it an incredible encouragement that the One who has the power to rise again and promises to come again is the same One who promises to also be with us to the very end of the age? That same resurrected King Jesus is the One perfecting your faith.

Growing up, I was a tall kid, so my mom and dad felt that should translate to being good at basketball. Haha, the joke was on them — I was terrible! But as I stood in the driveway taking shot after shot, which (let’s be honest) was brick after brick, my mom would say those three annoying words no kid wants to hear: “Practice makes perfect!” Not in the Christian life!

Practice doesn’t make perfect — Jesus makes perfect! Your final glorification isn’t dependent upon you. Isn’t that wildly wonderful, good news? Jesus began it, and Jesus will complete it. So we look to Jesus because he’s both the origin as well as the outcome of our faith.

2. We look to Jesus because he endured the cross.

Did you notice a few variants of the word “endure” throughout verses 1-3? Look again:

1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.

The root Greek word we translate here as “endured” or “endurance” is hupomone (ὑπομονή). It means “to remain under” — but not in the sense where the believer is just muscling through turmoil by lying down to be willingly trampled. No, hupomone is a patient endurance that meets adversity head-on and overcomes obstacles with hope and joy. It’s neither unprepared nor surprised by trials, but rather expects them. David Guzik says, “A runner must be stressed to gain endurance. Sailors must go to sea. Soldiers go to battle. For the Christian, tribulation is just part of our Christian life.”

What exactly did Jesus endure, compared to what we must endure? Let’s not forget, or only talk about this around Easter: Jesus endured the cross — a Roman crucifixion — which was so devastatingly brutal that the word excruciating was itself derived from the word crucify. What Jesus endured included the entire hour described in John’s Gospel as soon as Jesus left the upper room. In the garden, in agony, as Jesus prayed for the Father’s will to be done, his facial sweat glands began rupturing blood, a medical condition known as hematohidrosis which is caused by intense stress. Jesus endured the betraying kiss of a close friend who sold him out, then watched his dearest friends abandon him as he was arrested by the temple guard. Jesus then endured false accusations, beatings, having his beard plucked out, being struck in the face, being stripped naked, being subjected to 39 lashings by leather whips most likely embedded with bone and glass, causing his back, legs, stomach, upper chest, and face to become disfigured.

As he was mocked by Herod, and later by Roman executioners, Jesus was clothed in purple robes and then stripped of them again, after his blood would have congealed and stuck to the fabric. Jesus endured a crown of spiked thorns which would have been pummeled into the soft tissue of his skull, and Jesus then endured being nailed to the exposed cross timbers of a tree, where over the course of many hours he would have bled out and eventually asphyxiated. Jesus’ cause of death was a ruptured pericardium after six hours of enduring brutal torture and execution.

The philosopher Seneca asked, “Would any human being willingly choose to be fastened to that cursed tree, especially after the beating that left him deathly weak, deformed, swelling with vicious welts on shoulders and chest, and struggling to draw every last, agonizing breath? Anyone facing such a death would plead to die rather than mount the cross.”

As if all of that physical torture wasn’t enough, it was the fearsome wrath of God that Jesus faced spiritually, as it was poured out upon him to its very dregs. We know the hymn:

It was my sin that held him there / Until it was accomplished!
His dying breath has brought me life / I know that it isfinished!

This is what Jesus endured. This is what he ‘hupomone-d’, what he “remained under.” But notice verse 3 also says, Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. So Jesus not only endured the cross, but he also endured such hostility from sinners. It wasn’t enough that Jesus went willingly to such a horrific death, but it was all for hostile sinners! He endured hostility from the religious leaders who were jealous and wanted him killed. He endured hostility from his own people, who wagged their heads at him as they passed by Golgotha. He endured hostility from the Romans, who mocked him as King, yet also witnessed his death as truly the Son of God. He endured hostility from a punk teenager named Pilgrim, who, in his stupidity, kept rejecting the God who graciously allowed him to be raised in a Christian home and was obstinate in his teenage rebellion.

That’s what Jesus endured. What are we to endure? Does anything compare with what Jesus endured? Forgive my indifference when our prayer requests are that we are getting impatient in traffic! Verse 1 tells us what we endure: the race set before us. We lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely. We look to Jesus who endured so that we may not grow weary or fainthearted. The writer of Hebrews reminds us in verse 4 that it hasn’t gotten too extreme yet in our race: “In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.” Is that true? You may have had to endure some insane tribulation (and I don’t in any way intend to make light of that), but you haven’t shed your blood yet, have you? Then keep running! Keep looking to Jesus! He’s the One who endured the cross. So we look to him, especially when we face hostility from sinners.

We discovered a tiny little lemon tree when we first moved into our Huntington Beach, California home. It produced lemons year-round regardless of how I cared for it. They weren’t your average lemons, either. They were the coveted Meyer lemons, more sweet than sour. I couldn’t keep up with all the fruit this tree would regularly pop out. I’d often pile all the lemons into a cardboard box, write “free lemons” in Sharpie on the side, and plop it on the curb for the neighbors to share in our bounty. I was amazed that no matter how much I ignored this tree (which was quite often), it would continue to produce fruit. Eventually, I ran into a problem with this prolific tree. I found it was infested with snails who were getting to the fruit much faster than I could. It was time to take action.

Surrounding the bottom of the tree with salt, I hoped to get rid of the snails without putting my dog at risk by using snail bait. Eventually, the snails left. But then I noticed many branches that looked a bit like petrified wood. I’d never claimed to have a green thumb, but after a quick Google search, I learned I should get rid of all the dead wood I could find. Now, I rarely attack a job using the proper tools, usually just grabbing what I can find and getting to work. I entered the garage, knowing I didn’t have the ideal trimmers. Instead, I grabbed a saw with a handle and went to work on my sad little lemon tree.

The work was so satisfying that I kept checking each branch and removing the dead wood. Once I was finished removing all the useless branches, I stood back to admire my work and thought, “Well, I may have gone a little too far.” My tree looked like a kid who’d tried to cut their own hair. Off-center, haphazard, and close to bald. I figured I’d probably killed the poor thing.

If you have a green thumb (unlike me), you already know where this story is going. Not only did my lemon tree survive, but it came back more fruitful than I’d ever seen before. The tree thrived because all the dead parts had been removed. As a result, all its energy could be directed toward growing new leaves—and, most importantly—producing new blossoms that would become fruit. Without the intense pruning I gave it, the tree wouldn’t have been able to create such an abundance of good fruit the following season.

This is how God works in our lives. Sometimes, we may look like my lemon tree: barren. We can feel as if God has stripped absolutely everything away, leaving us dead inside.

But, when my tree was pruned to the nth degree, it was far from dead. Beyond what my human eyes could see, the tree was repositioning and adapting. It focused on the essential things, such as deeper roots, which would support all the new fruit. When you’ve been pruned so much that you feel dead, you can know that growth is happening under the surface beyond what you can see. God’s drawing you to put down deep roots with Him, to seek after Him for the nourishment you need to grow. And He’s growing you in humility, so when that beautiful fruit comes, there will be no pride in yourself because you’ll recognize that growth as a work only God could do.

We simply surrender and allow God to do His holy work of pruning. He’s the one who brings the increase. Through every season, we’re growing. We must trust God’s careful pruning and rely on His nourishment to make us more fruitful than we could imagine.

“He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and He prunes the branches that do bear fruit
so they will produce even more.”
John 15:2 NLT

Editor’s Note: The above is an excerpt from God Isn’t Hiding: Volume One — The Spaces and Places I’ve Found Him, available at shannonquintana.com or your favorite bookseller.

Today, the 10th of October, is World Mental Health Day.

A recent international study found the following:

“One out of every two people in the world will develop a mental health disorder in their lifetime…”
(Harvard.edu)

One out of every two means that as you read and I write, either you or I will experience mental health problems in our lifetimes (and, very possibly, both of us).

When people are physically ill, we cook for them, we pray for them, and we might even offer to go over to their home and clean. When a family has a baby and needs the support of a community, we make schedules to visit, take meals, and offer childcare for any older siblings. But, when there is a problem that begins in the mind, many do not know what to do. This is even true, sadly, within the church. Why is it, when our Bibles have so much to offer in terms of caring for others in a vast and varied range of situations, that this kind of struggle can find us lacking?

Here are some important things to remember:

The brain can get ill just like any other organ in the body; read Brains Get Sick Too by Rebecca Slack, PhD.

I recently learned the following:

“Just as diabetes has to do with a body’s failure to regulate blood sugar, mood disorders result from the brain’s failure to regulate the chemicals that control mood. Specifically, nerve cells in the brain communicate with each other by releasing chemicals called neurotransmitters. Norepinephrine and serotonin are the two neurotransmitters involved in depression. When there is an ample supply of these neurotransmitters available to stimulate other nerve cells, one typically feels “normal.” You can still have your regular ups and downs, but you aren’t fighting the illness of depression. But in clinical depression, fewer of these neurotransmitters are released because the first nerve cell reabsorbs them before they’ve adequately stimulated other nerve cells.”

Illness is illness, in whatever part of the body it is found. Neither visible or invisible illness were part of God’s plan for humanity and their presence reflects the fallen world we live in (Genesis 2.9, Revelation 22.1-4). Our frail and fallible bodies will one day be raised to newness of life and be without sickness of any kind (1 Corinthians 15.51-55) but until then, things will go wrong.

Mental (and physical) health problems are not rooted in sin.

Challenge this false assumption with John 9.1-3:

“Now as Jesus was passing by, he saw a man who had been blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who committed the sin that caused him to be born blind, this man or his parents?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but he was born blind so that the acts of God may be revealed through what happens to him.”

I love what Edwin Blum wrote about those verses:

“The disciples faced a theological problem. Believing that sin directly caused all suffering, how could a person be born with a handicap?… [John 9.1-3) does not contradict the universal sinfulness of man (cf. Rom. 3:9-20, 23). Instead Jesus meant that this man’s blindness was not caused by some specific sin. Instead the problem existed so that … God could display His glory in the midst of seeming tragedy.”
(emphasis added)

It is ok to ask for help.

Physical struggles that need medical intervention are not looked down upon, neither is your mental health.

It is self-evident that when we are sick, we need a doctor to make us well (Jeremiah 8.22, Luke 5.31). Sometimes that doctor prescribes a cautious and minimal treatment plan, other times that doctor will offer a more definite intervention. We trust their judgement and never look down upon someone who leaves the hospital with medication.

We would never, ever think to chastise or criticise someone seeking an oncologist if they have cancer or someone visiting an orthopaedic surgeon if they have a broken leg. As we have said, the brain can malfunction just like any other organ, so, logically, there is no stigma attached to seeking treatment. Sometimes that will be cautious, sometimes more definite. Both are ok, and the fear of criticism for seeking help should not stop you doing so.

You are not alone.

There is likely someone in your life who knows exactly what you are going through.

“… within the Christian community, where openness and grace should flow the richest and deepest, where the masks are meant to come off and safety offered to all, owning depression [and other mental health struggles] is virtually taboo. There is an unwritten rule that people of faith should not be depressed. The prevailing idea is that the Christian faith is to be a faith of joy, making depression a sin, which means there is no excuse for a depressed spirit. As a result, depressed people have been riddled with guilt, have hidden in shame, and have been afraid to surface in order to get the help they need.”
(Church and Culture)

It might shock you to hear that giants of yesteryear — such as the great reformer and hymn writer Martin Luther, the prince of preachers and ever quotable Charles Spurgeon, and one of the best known missionaries of the nineteenth century Hudson Taylor — all suffered with what we would call depression today. We would never, ever think of criticising these men, their faith, or their impact on modern Christianity. It was, perhaps, even more courageous for them to admit difficulty in a time when, generally, difficulties were not admitted. We would never say that they were not a ‘strong enough believer’ because they struggled with issues that were not as visible as a broken leg or a cancerous growth.

All of that to say, there are people all around us who have experiential knowledge of what we are dealing with and would, I am sure, love to help you. Many of us, however, are not mind readers and do not want to seem like a nosey-Nigel by being overly full of questions, so if you would appreciate help, confide in someone you trust.

Beyond heroes of the faith and those in our lives now, the Psalmist records in Psalm 42:

“Why are you depressed, O my soul?
Why are you upset?
Wait for God!
For I will again give thanks
to my God for his saving intervention.
I am depressed,
so I will pray to you while in the region of the upper Jordan,
from Hermon, from Mount Mizar.”
(vv.5-6)

Depression, mental health struggles, openly talked about in the Bible?!

In his struggles, the Psalmist is met with, literally, overwhelming grace. God does not look down on those who come to Him with problems, and yes, that includes those that find their origin in our minds, thoughts, or emotions:

“One deep stream calls out to another at the sound of your waterfalls;
all your billows and waves overwhelm me.
By day the LORD decrees his loyal love,
and by night he gives me a song,
a prayer to the God of my life.”
(vv.7-8)

The Psalmist has taken his struggle to God (v.6) and has found grace, love, and care (vv.7-8). On this reception and provision, F.B. Meyer wrote the following:

“…whatever the depths of our sorrow, desire, or necessity, there are correspondences in God from which full supplies may be obtained.”

Conclusion

Stated as simply as possible: If this is how God treats those who come to Him with struggles that begin in our minds, thoughts, or emotions, should we not do all we can to do the same?

From this day forward, when someone we know takes the courageous step to voice their struggles, let us all treat them with the same grace with which the Lord so freely gives us (cf. Ephesians 4.32, 1 John 4.19).

Further Reading

The American Bible Society, Healing The Wounds Of Trauma: How The Church Can Help.
Bessel Van Der Kolk, M.D., The Body Keeps The Score.
Gaby Galvin, “The U.S. Suicide Rate Has Soared Since 1999,” U.S. News and World Report, April 8, 2020, read online.
Brianna Abbott, “U.S. Suicide Rates Rose in 2021 After Two Years of Decline,” The Wall Street Journal, September 30, 2022, read online.
Charles Swindoll, Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life.
Dwight L. Carlson, “Exposing the Myth that Christians Should Not Have Emotional Problems,” Christianity Today, February 9, 1998, read online.
Samuel H. Chao, “Remarkable or Little-Known Facts About Hudson Taylor and Missions to China,” Christian History15, no. 4.
Larry Crabb, Connecting: Healing Ourselves and Our Relationships.
https://hms.harvard.edu/news/half-worlds-population-will-experience-mental-health-disorder?_ga=2.240407427.1432749876.1728282009-550650552.1728282009#:~:text=Massive%20burden%20of%20disease,by%20the%20age%20of%2075.
https://theconversation.com/how-neuroscience-can-teach-children-about-mental-health-31713
https://www.churchandculture.org/blog/2022/10/10/suicide-and-the-church

When Paul addresses the crowd gathered at the Areopagus in Acts 17, he opens his appeal with a reference to a local altar to the unknown God and quotes their poets in his appeal for Christianity. His speech is undergirded by two critical assumptions: all can see signs of God’s existence, and Christians should recognize and utilize cultural opportunities to proclaim the gospel.

This cultural appeal can sometimes make Christians uncomfortable because they are concerned about the false, which mingles with the truth. But Paul assumes the world’s ignorance: Their limited knowledge is a starting place, incomplete and incorrect, but enough to warrant hearing what Paul has to say. We should be listening to when artists get it right: when they see that God has not left himself without a witness (Acts 14:17).

So what are our culture’s poets saying? I want to cite just one recent example. William Shatner, primarily known for his role as Captain Kirk in the original Star Trek, has also engaged in spoken word poetry for decades. This spring, in collaboration with musician Ben Folds and the National Symphony Orchestra, Shatner performed “The Meaning,” chronicling his experience shooting a recent nature documentary in the context of his lifelong wrestling with the meaning of life. As the poem progresses, after being dissatisfied with science and mysticism, he has an epiphany to which Paul (and we) should add our amen. It’s worth listening to his performance, as the delivery is some of the best of his career, but here are the concluding stanzas.

I was searching for the meaning
A proof of greater plans
Some elevated vision
Beyond the reach of man

Searching for the meaning
Before it was too late
To save myself or anyone
From cruel or random fate

On the final morning
I still had found no peace
So I packed up my belongings
To head back down the crease

But by a twist of fate
It landed in my hand
Falling off my backpack
Some simple grains of sand

It struck me dumb with wonder
Like sun after the rain
I saw the entire universe
In each and every grain

Yes each grain was a diamond
Unique, precious, and rare
And countless years and miracles
Conspired to bring them there

The wholeness of the planet
Like a flash it came
We all were grains of sand
All different, yet the same

Yes every human soul
Every atom that persists
Bound up in the journey
The journey to exist

There was no separation
There were no prison walls
The meaning of the meaning
Lived inside it all

I didn’t need a mantra
Or set of magic prayers
I just needed open eyes
To notice what was there

Holy are the mountains
Holy is the sand
Holy are the human beings
Trying to understand

Holy are the whispers
Holy are the screams
Holy are the nightmares
Holy are the dreams

Holy is the seedcake
Holy is the rot
Holy are the written words
Holy those forgot

Holy is the order
Holy is the mess
Holy are the modest ones
Holy the undressed

Holy is the garbage
Holy is the gold
Holy are the infants
Holy are the old

Holy is the poverty
Holy is the wealth
Holy are the unions
Holy is the self

Holy are the unions
Holy is the self

Holy are the unions
Holy is the self

William Shatner may not know the Holy One who created and sustains our world (he often identifies as spiritual but not religious), but he sees the holy fingerprints across every atom of the universe. We could critique his semi-pantheistic conclusions, but his use of the word holy provides an opportunity for dialogue: maybe that sacredness has a reason for being, maybe they display the invisible attributes of the Creator God (Rom 1:20). We know what Paul would do. He would proclaim to Shatner and our world, “What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you” ( Acts 17:23).

“Thick skin, soft heart.“

A good friend who pastors a church in a very different context and culture said this to me recently. In full he said,
“How are we [as Christians] supposed to keep a thick skin to pushback and criticism but also maintain a soft heart towards others?“

For those who claim Christ as Lord and Saviour this is a real and ongoing struggle.

So, how do we not wilt and fall away in the face of negativity but persistently pursue the best for other people?

First, we need to acknowledge our human limitations. You’re just a person, and I’m just a person. This means that we have limits. We have a limit to how thick our skin can be and how much criticism can be ignored and risen above. Words hurt (Proverbs 12.18). Words said in anger or upset, actions taken with a critical spirit, take a second to say or do and often far, far longer to forget.

We also have a limit to the compassion we can show. You’re just a person, and I’m just a person. We’re fallen, we’re fallible, and we’re not a source of inexhaustible compassion: Compare Jeremiah 17.9 with 2 Corinthians 1.3 and see that we’re not Him.

I recently read of compassion fatigue. Simply, if you’re constantly pouring out for others and bearing their burdens with little or no regard for yourself, this will catch up with you and you then become the person in need. Dr. Charles Figley writes on the destructive nature of this state and says that it …

“… refers to the emotional and physical exhaustion that can affect helping … over time. It has been associated with a gradual desensitization to [people’s] stories … [and ultimately] a decrease in quality care …”

So, how do we avoid falling away at every criticism and burning out through compassion? There’s inherent tension between the call to care and carry burdens but not carry to the inevitable negative emotions and interactions that fallen and fallible people bring. In both scenarios, the solution, I believe, is the same:

We take both to Jesus.

Perhaps it sounds too simple. Perhaps it is. The care we offer people should flow from who God is, revealed in the person of Jesus:

“Blessed is the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles so that we may be able to comfort those experiencing any trouble with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ overflow toward us, so also our comfort through Christ overflows to you.”
(2 Corinthians 1.3-5)

“…if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort provided by love, any fellowship in the Spirit, any affection or mercy, complete my joy and be of the same mind, by having the same love, being united in spirit, and having one purpose.”
(Philippians 2.1-2)

The compassion and the care we offer others, the soft heart, flow from who God is and what He has done for us in the person and work of Jesus. We care for others with the care we receive, not that which we manufacture ourselves. Your ultimate goal in caring for others is to take them to Jesus, not to be their Saviour. Compassion fatigue is much quicker to come when we try to take on ourselves those burdens that only He can carry.

The same is true for the criticisms:

“If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. Remember what I told you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the one who sent me.”
(John 15.18-21)

Criticism for the Christian is, sadly, par for the course. In the same discourse, Jesus goes on to say that He will send an Advocate, a Helper, who will guide us through these kinds of situations (John 16.1-11). The ability to not let the weight of negativity crush you is a Spirit-given gift.

Jesus knows, experientially, what you’re working through when the criticisms and disappointments have pierced your skin and threaten to harden your heart and has provided all you need to maintain a thick skin yet a soft heart. Take them to Him in prayer. Read His Word and see His actions and reactions. The key to having thick skin and a soft heart, simply, is to root yourself in Jesus.

This summer, I was blessed to attend the Refresh Europe Conference. Over the years, it’s changed, with more time given to friendships and teaching aimed at renewal. As a person in full-time ministry, I enjoy these times more and more, as well as the encouragement they give my family. They’re a reminder of rest and grace.

On one of the days, I was lazing through the library and found an older copy of a book that was such a game changer for me: Why Grace Changes Everything. Looking at it brought back many warm memories of a simpler time in my ministry and walk with the Lord. With chapters like “The Door is Never Closed,” “No Favorites in the Kingdom,” or “Won’t They Go Wild,” I realize how much I need to remember. With time, we know that though people and situations are complex, this can leave us worn and tired until we rest on an everlasting Gospel of Grace. I’d like to remember a few of the foundational tenets of the Gospel, inspired by Galatians 1:3-5.

There’s no better place to begin than Paul’s usual greeting, Grace and Peace — the heart of the Gospel. We know this is a standard greeting, and digging into the origin of the words in their historical context brings out a rich study, but I don’t want to take it too far. This is also the heart of everything we hope to see happen in our lives. We want to know God’s unlimited and unmerited favor in every aspect of our lives. I want to experience more of that holistic life-encompassing peace meant by the Hebrew word Shalom. The Galatians had forgotten that grace is not something to be earned. Even though expectations flow from grace as understood in Romans 12:1, a reasonable worship of a life submitted to the Savior—there’s a fine line between thanking and earning. We can live in thankfulness as we seek to live in a way we know pleases God. For example, I can preach to my congregation with a heart of thankfulness as I show through a text how excellent Jesus is. Or, I can seek to earn or impress the people I preach to as if I were trying to earn their approval, as if they were my boss or some distant family member. This is the opposite of grace, leaving the pastor and congregation empty.

God’s grace isn’t like that; it’s more of a rich, eternal banquet of all that’s good. His heart was shown in the Father sending the Son, the only One who truly deserves His approval, and substituting Him for us in His sinless perfection. This brings us deep peace that doesn’t fear being found out for who we really are because we are now God’s son or daughter. All anyone could hope to have earned is already accomplished in Jesus. This requires resting, accepting, and trusting. Nor does this grace lend itself to criticism, thinking it’s all too good to be true. It’s like the cooling effects of a pool or lake on a scorching summer’s day that brings the body temperature down to more liveable levels. The body of water is greater than the person who needs cooling and welcomes all who will come. This is God’s heart toward us; Paul shares it with his readership, us, even 2000 years later. Grace and Peace to each one of you!

Next, we turn to our only hope — Redemption through Jesus. When I think about this summer living in Paris, we began with surprise parliamentary elections, something the government is still trying to recover from as I write these words. We’re still trying to navigate the special Olympic Inflation and the Open Paganism Controversy that the entire world was privileged to watch on TV. In all this uncertainty, people seem to be looking out for themselves. It’s a natural part of a society that often debates truth, knowledge, and justice. For example, every year in France, high school-aged students (Lycéens) take a nationwide Baccalaureate test to continue their university education. Part of it is a four-hour philosophy test. This year’s questions were: Can science satisfy our need for truth? Or Does the State owe (us) anything? Through these questions, we can read into what people are struggling with, and it seems there might not be a lot of hope.

The Galatians looked to the law to make them right in God’s sight because false teachers were seeking to use their adhesion to their teaching for their glory. I imagine it like head-counting, as if to say the guys with the most clout and prestige had the most followers or congregations. This goes back to trying to earn a special place of prominence, like Pastor Chuck’s chapter on being “God’s Favorite.” In Jesus, we have everything opposite. He gave Himself, the only innocent One, to buy back with what was precious (Himself), what was lost to the dishonor and shame of our sin. Martin Luther said, “The Gospel is a doctrine that condemns all sorts of human righteousness and preaches the sole righteousness of Christ. To those who accept this, it brings peace of conscience and all good things, yet the world hates and persecutes it bitterly.”^[1] If we step back, it seems almost too strange to be true. Why be hateful to the one who has made such a personal investment to save us? Jesus isn’t the distanced investor who analyzes and calmly decides where to act. He has already accomplished all that was ever necessary. Yes, this age we live in is still evil, but we have hope that it’s alive and can never be taken away from us; Jesus redeemed us, and He gave His life to secure it!

Lastly, at the risk of sounding too much like a line from Star Wars, I want to remember what brings perfect balance, unity, and renewal — giving glory to God. Here’s the danger of an “everyone looking out for themselves, fighting to prove their merit in the world” society: it makes people into their idols through covetousness. Dallas Willard puts it this way: “To allow lust (or strong desires) to govern our lives is to exalt our will over God’s. That is why Paul called covetousness “idolatry” (Ephesians 5:5; Colossians 3:5). We are the idols, in that case, prepared to sacrifice the well-being and possessions of others to ourselves.”^[2] When one person’s glory interferes with another, a struggle must ensue, or someone must back down. In this way, glory-seekers are, by nature, absolute monarchs, which is why glory-seeking allows only one winner. What happens when the only one who deserves to win isn’t present? What happens when an underserving, ambitious person succeeds? Our world is teeming with such tragic tales.

Here’s a better story that gives a weary soul life and proper rest. Jesus is worthy of glory, but He didn’t choose to seek it. He decided to pursue His Father’s glory and lose all. His glory was His cross. Therefore, His life brings glory to the Father, who in turn gives glory to the Son. He made His name so great that every knee would bow. One day we’ll see it. Then, when all glory goes to the right place, genuine balance returns because the struggle for glory is over. In as much as it’s possible today, giving glory to God opens the door to authentic renewal. It’s a celebration of grace and to borrow a favorite author’s title—that’s what changes everything.

References

^[1] Luther, Martin. Galatians. Crossway. Kindle Edition. p. 21.
^[2] Willard, Dallas. Renovation of the Heart: Putting on the Character of Christ – 20th Anniversary Edition. The Navigators. Kindle Edition. pp. 219-220.

One of the key components of a Christian church is worship. Visit any church in your town this Sunday morning and you’ll experience some form of worship ministry during the service. The worship leader will get up, you’ll have the songs displayed in a hymnal or on a projector, and everyone will be encouraged to sing along. Usually, worship is the very first thing we do at church. It sets the stage for the whole Sunday morning gathering. You can remove a lot of things in a church service, like different programs and practices, but you can’t do without worship. Worship is important.

If you’ve had the opportunity to visit other congregations or have been a part of different churches, then you know that there’s a lot of variation in the body of Christ when it comes to worship. Churches worship God in different ways. Some use an organ or piano and focus on congregational singing of hymns. Others enjoy contemporary music styles with a full band and an immersive experience. I’ve even been to a church that had a country western band and played cowboy worship songs. Not really my cup of tea, but hey, there’s lots of variety, and there’s something for everyone. Even within our own Calvary Chapel family of churches, you’ll get different expressions of worship based on where you attend. There’s freedom to follow the leading of the Spirit, and we enjoy that freedom.

Now, I know that some of you are probably thinking, “Yes, but ‘worship’ isn’t just singing songs. Worship is a way of life.” First of all, good observation, wise one. And yes! I agree with you. But today we’re talking about the worship part of the church service (the song singing and music playing), not the big-picture idea of worship in the Bible. Nevertheless, here’s a short definition of worship and the heart behind the musical worship we have in church:

What Is Worship?

The dictionary defines worship as “The feeling or expression of reverence and adoration for a deity: ‘the worship of God.’”^[1] It comes from “worth-ship,” to ascribe worth to someone or something.

Jesus said that true worshippers worship in Spirit and in truth.^[2]
In Romans chapter twelve, we find a great summary of spiritual worship:

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”^[3]

So worship is really a response to God’s greatness, as we, in Spirit and truth, offer our lives to him sacrificially.

Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the topic of worship ministry in our church services. How should we worship the Lord together, and what are some practical things we can learn about worship ministry?

Music That Ministers

I grew up in the Church of Christ. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the denomination, the Church of Christ doesn’t use musical instruments during worship. In fact, it’s not called “worship”; it’s called “singing.” Thankfully, the church I grew up in had a lot of good people in a loving congregation. In that church I learned the stories of the Bible, and I learned about Jesus, but I also learned that using instruments in the singing was a big no-no.

As I got older and visited heathen churches that used instruments, I discovered that music actually makes singing better. The Bible has lots of examples of musical instruments in worship. In fact, Psalm 150 alone mentions eight different types of instruments. The Scripture commands us to “Sing His praises with the harp and the trumpet.” It calls us to “make a joyful symphony to the Lord.”^[4] I’m not drumming all of this up just to make a point. I really don’t want to string you along or toot my own horn, but I believe that Instruments play an important role in the worship service of the Church.

I remember when I was a very godly Bible college student, I had a gift to critique worship services. I could methodically identify everything that was wrong with them. One thing that I found offensive was when musicians would play instrumental solos in the middle of the song. I thought it was so carnal^[5] because, in my opinion, they were doing it to draw attention to themselves. Then I met Marcello. Marcello was the new electric guitar player at our Bible college and a very gifted musician. He didn’t say much, and I didn’t really know him that well, but when he’d play, my heart was lifted to heaven. I felt like Elijah in 2 Kings, “‘Bring me a musician.’ Then it happened, when the musician played, that the hand of the LORD came upon him.”^[6] My view of instruments changed, and I realized that a quality guitar solo or violin piece added to a worship song can enhance worship and not hinder it.

Spirit and Truth

One of Calvary Chapel’s core distinctives is “striking the balance.” We don’t overemphasize spiritual gifts, but we also don’t deny the work of the Spirit. Pentecostals say we’re too much like Baptists, and Baptists say we’re too Pentecostal. I say we have a good balance. Balance should apply to worship too. There has to be a balance in our worship song selection that includes both Spirit and truth. We want to experience the power of the Holy Spirit in our times of worship, but we also want to make sure we’re singing the truth about God from His Word. We tend to miss the mark on one side or the other. We either have a Spirit-filled worship service with songs that are not as doctrinally sound as they should be, or we have a bunch of theological songs and no spiritual anointing. We need both.

As a pastor, I’m often asked why we sing certain songs and not others. I reply that it’s usually because the song is either biblically inaccurate or it doesn’t communicate our heart of worship. On the other hand, we’ve been criticized by some for singing worship songs by Hillsong, Bethel, and Elevation Worship, to name a few. I know that with any ministry or church, you have the good and the bad. Even though I don’t necessarily agree with all the theology of these ministries, I do appreciate the songwriting gifts of their writers and have seen them inspire many to worship. I personally believe that it’s enough to judge individual songs for doctrinal content and spiritual anointing, and if they check out, to incorporate them into the service. If the song is good and biblical, then we sing it! My view is that it’s a case-by-case basis for song selection. Ultimately, we follow the principle of “Spirit and truth” and seek to strike the balance.

Team Too Loud vs. Team Too Quiet

There’s a law—like the law of gravity—that’s called the law of commenting on the volume of worship. This affects everyone from the long-term ministry leader to the new congregant. There’s an invisible force that compels them to say something. Having been a pastor for 20+ years, this is the number one complaint/comment I get. And it’s from both sides.

“Excuse me, pastor?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“I just want to say that the music is so loud and I’m afraid I will get hearing damage if I stay one more moment.”

Then, at the same service, a few minutes later…

“Excuse me, pastor?”

“Yes, how can I help you?

“Is there any way to turn the volume up? I’m having a hard time worshipping; the volume is so low it sounds like background music.”

Without going into too much detail, what we’re experiencing in our worship services with the too-loud-crowd and too-quiet-crow are two different preferences of worship style. It has nothing to do with one being better than the other but rather with how people like to worship. Those who like lower volumes favor hearing themselves and others sing. They’d like the music to support the singing rather than being immersed in the music. On the other hand, those who like a bigger band and louder volume would rather be enveloped in worship. They choose to feel the moment and share in the same immersive experience with others.^[7]

I personally lean toward a more immersive worship experience. I like to sing at the top of my lungs and not worry about everyone turning around and looking at me. But I also appreciate times of refrain and corporate singing. I love hearing the congregation sing together. Good worship leaders can have a nice mix of both, but usually, a church will specialize in one or another.

Chasing The Feeling

We recently had a young family leave our church because of the worship. In a new church plant, you’ll always have people come and go, but it’s always hard when people you love leave. Before they left, they had a meeting with one of the elders and explained their reason. They said that the worship wasn’t Spirit-filled enough. Even though they loved the teaching, and had made many friends and connections in the church, they were afraid that they were going to “dry up” spiritually due to the worship.

This came as a shock to us because God has blessed the church with several incredibly gifted and seasoned worship leaders. Yes, our worship style is simple, but I feel the presence of God every Sunday as people sing to the Lord and lift their hands in heartfelt praise.

After digging a little deeper, we discovered that this couple had a background with churches and ministries that focused more on Spiritual experience and feelings than on biblical teaching and discipleship. Ministries like these will often look to the emotional expression of the congregation during meetings as a benchmark for health rather than internal biblical transformation over time. If people aren’t intensely worshipping, with visible demonstrations of the Spirit (intense emotional expression, every person’s hands raised, prophetic words, spontaneous utterances, etc.), then that means that the service is lacking in Spiritual power.

Don’t get me wrong; I love a great worship experience as much as the next guy. I’m a big fan of worship nights and big loud worship events, but I also realize that our personal experience isn’t the end goal of what we’re doing here. Sadly, many Christians are chasing the feeling rather than using the feeling to focus on Christ. It’s a classic case of looking to the gift (emotional experience in worship) rather than the giver (Jesus, the object of worship). They get caught up in the next big thing, going from one intense worship experience to another, and forget the value and maturity of being still and waiting on the Lord.

Sometimes, God wants us to be quiet and let all the noise drift away. “In the secret in the quiet place / In the stillness You are there.”^[8]

The Heart of Worship

Ultimately, what matters most is not the different components of worship, or how loud or quiet the music is. It’s not really important if you like to sing hymns or prefer contemporary classics (You may even like that cowboy worship). At the end of the day, the real question is, did you worship with your whole heart? Did you have a connection with God? Even if you did not feel a rush of emotion, did you offer a sacrifice of praise to Him?^[9] Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. He’s looking for a heart of worship.

“I’ll bring You more than a song
For a song in itself
Is not what You have required
You search much deeper within
Through the ways things appear
You’re looking into my heart
I’m comin’ back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about You
It’s all about You, Jesus”^[10]

Footnotes

^[1] Oxford Languages, Google Dictionary. https://languages.oup.com/google-dictionary-en/
^[2] See John 4:23
^[3] Romans 12:1 (ESV)
^[4] See Psalm 98:4-6 (NLT)
^[5] “Carnal” is a term we used to use in Bible college to refer to someone who was not spiritual, someone who was “in the flesh.”
^[6] 2 Kings 3:15
^[7] There is a great article on this by a worship leader named Dan Wilt. Find it at https://www.danwilt.com/is-it-too-loud-worship-accompaniment-vs-worship-immersion-culture/
^[8] Lyrics from Andy Park’’s “In the Secret”
^[9] See Hebrews 13:15
^[10] Lyrics from Matt Redman’s “The Heart Of Worship”