Theology Leadership

Articles on Theology and Leadership

Laughter, Masks, and Becoming

The truth is neither a respecter of persons nor seen in the eye of the beholder. Nonetheless, each of us has a personal truth that either aligns or conflicts with objective reality. For most of my life I’ve been a walking contradiction that became gradually more aware of my idiosyncrasies. Self-awareness is a blessing and a curse. You can see things about yourself more clearly but too often get stuck in your own head, so you learn how to prevent others from seeing the inner struggle.

Laughter as a Mask

I’m adept at reading the room and have become quite the actor, learning which mask to wear to throw anyone off the trail of knowing the true me.  Laughter can be a medicine or a mask. I can recall one of the first times I used laughter to cover the underlying anxiety that’s always just below the surface. I was in elementary school and decided to say out loud a clever line that popped in my head in response to the teacher. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of me. We’d just been given an assignment and all finished rather quickly. The teacher remarked “number one, you’ve not had enough time to finish this assignment” to which I replied, “number two, we’re through!” The class erupted in laughter and I learned how laughter can be an optical, emotional illusion. That discovery was a first step on a long and winding passageway of identity.

Who I Am

The truth is that I’m a rare personality type, and I’ve encountered precious few people who understand me, let alone share mutual interests. I can count on three fingers the people with whom I’ve felt the deepest resonance. The practical effect is that I have to hide my personality behind the smokescreen of small talk. Ironically, small talk is one of my most intense pet peeves.

To give a science fiction point of reference, I’ve been called Spock numerous times. The thing with being a “Vulcan” isn’t that there are no emotions but rather stronger emotions that require careful regulation. I’m incredibly empathic and feel the emotional landscape of my environment. So, I have to keep a lid on it to maintain decorum and the appearance of normalcy. 

My personality type also has a limit on the amount of emotional investment I can maintain. This means I can only have a handful of close friends to connect with on a deeper level. For those few friends, I will go to the moon and back. But while that tight-knit group gets all of me, everyone else is kept at arm’s length. This also results in breaking ties with those who may have once been in that inner circle as needed. It’s not personal. It’s that I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to allow more than that handful of closest friends. I’m sorry for the relationships that just phased out or ended abruptly.

Due to my strong sense of independence, I strive not to burden others with my emotional or personal struggles. Yet because of the facade I maintain, it may well be unnoticed to the casual observer the state I’m in emotionally at any given moment. Sometimes a combination of emotional burnout and exhaustion removes my ability to mask my status.

One of the deepest longings of my heart is to be understood. Ironically, I’m an amalgamation of paradoxical and contradictory inclinations. I’m a perfectionist easily frustrated with details. I’m an introvert who craves the deepest of connections. I’m an optimist at heart with extremely pessimistic tendencies.

My love language is the mutual enjoyment of something in real time. I feel loved most when sharing genuine laughter with someone or discussing a common interest in depth. I seldom feel loved. I usually feel tolerated at best.

I expect everyone to operate with the same core values that I do in terms of motivation and interaction with others. I find transactional relationships morally repulsive and don’t tolerate that perspective well. Why not help someone just because it’s the right thing to do? How can anyone only offer kindness with the expectation of compensation? Is that kindness at all?

Identity and Culture at Large

There is a disconnect between my identity and how society seeks to define me, particularly as a man. Cultural and evangelical expectations of masculinity are distasteful and opposite of the personhood of Christ I see in the New Testament. Both the caricature of the incompetent sitcom dad and the workaholic, powerlifting, tycoon that forces their way through life like a bull in a china shop are hollow and harmful. There is more to being a man than emulating cultural idols. What of humility? What of sacrifice? What of weeping? What of compassion? What of righteous indignation? What of Christ?

I’m a product of a traumatic childhood and, in many ways, just a plain and simple damned strange man (haha). The truth is, I am who I am—but I’m also becoming who I am in Christ. I’m a sojourner discovering what it means to be a follower of Christ that simultaneously knows himself and denies himself. I’m still discovering what that means with the haunted and even hidden corridors of my inner dimensions. Even though you likely have a different outlook or personality from me, may the peace of Christ guide you through your own corridors with grace.

The Paradox of Obedience and Motivation

When does God despise obedience? Why would God command us to do things in specific ways with full knowledge of our depravity? These are not simple questions, and it will take many layers to work toward understanding the beauty, mercy, glory, and goodness of God in our obedience and motivation. Despite the seeming complexity, the through line is the simplicity of Christ crucified and risen to become our righteousness in deeds and desires of omission and commission.

Right Sacrifices and Wrong Obedience

God instituted the sacrificial system, so why was He displeased by the obedience of His people to follow it? Amos 5:22 identifies the issue. Psalm 51:16-17 identifies the problem as well and also points toward the answer. God despises obedience when our actions become mere rituals disconnected from His character and devoid of His steadfast love. 

Hebrews 9 outlines God’s perfect plan foreshadowed and embodied in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Sacrifices rightly offered were always more than ritualistic obedience. They were copies of heavenly things that pointed toward Christ’s once-and-for-all sacrifice, not in handmade representations, but in the eternal reality of redemption in Heaven itself. Sacrifices rightly offered are those done in complete obedience, with pure motivation, and in connection with the lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. 

The Sermon that Exposes Us

As Jesus “went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom” (Matthew 4:23), He went up the mountain to sit down and teach. Love my friends? I’m not great at maintaining even those most precious relationships. Love my enemies? That is an impossible command. Jesus’ sermon on the mount intensifies the reality of our depravity by highlighting the necessity of pure inner motivation rather than mere outward compliance. 

The sermon on the mount is, in part, the great equalizer of anyone under the mistaken impression that they might scrape by in personal adherence to the law. Behavioral modification isn’t enough. The notion of innocent, law-abiding Christians is an illusion. We are all sinners in word, deed, and desire. Matthew 5:48 reminds us of what God requires, and Romans 3:21-28 explains how the justification of sinners takes place. 

Out of Nothing, Outside Ourselves

But if the sermon on the mount exposes our inability, how then is faithful obedience even possible? Latin is a dead language, but two terms help us understand our natural status and how God supernaturally works. Ex nihilo means “out of nothing” and typically refers to creation. God created “ex nihilo.” Extra nos means “outside of ourselves” and usually refers to salvation. Salvation is “extra nos.” 

Out of nothing, God creates faith outside ourselves. God works through the means of grace by His promises. He promised that baptism kills and resurrects (Romans 6:4, Colossians 2:12). He promised that His body and blood in the supper were for the forgiveness of sins (Matthew 26:28). Faith comes through hearing and hearing through the word of Christ (Romans 10:17)! He will do what He promises, won’t He? In the emptiness of our incapable depravity, He gives grace upon grace. We cannot bridge the gap between our obedience, motivation, and God’s expectation of righteousness in word, will, and deed. Out of that deadness and outside of ourselves, Christ’s death and resurrection deliver life just as God promised. Yet, we must be vigilant to rightly understand and live in light of these glorious, gracious realities. 

Legalism and Antinomianism 

Legalism is the elevation of the law to the level of Christ’s sufficient work on the cross. In contrast, antinomianism is the relegation of the law to a level beneath God’s righteous and required commands. Both of these are a constant danger to the church. If you need to strike the balance, read the book of Romans. The oracles of God are a blessing. The law of God is holy, righteous, and good! Yet, it is insufficient to justify.

The law of God is good. Psalm 119 is a powerhouse testimony to this indisputable fact. Across 176 verses, this acrostic Psalm celebrates the blessedness of God’s statutes, promises, testimonies, laws, precepts, and righteous rules. “Righteous are you, O Lord, and right are your rules. You have appointed your testimonies in righteousness and in all faithfulness” (Psalm 119:137-138). But the law in all its goodness (Romans 7:12) could not satisfy the righteous demands of God within us (Romans 8:3-4). Jesus did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. We constantly struggle to understand that the law of God must not be “relaxed” while simultaneously understanding that only Christ has fulfilled it in word, will, and deed on our behalf. How can we best remember that Christ has lived it while we can only live in light of it?

Law and Gospel 

Finding the middle ground between these two extremes through a proper distinction between law and gospel is what we see in scripture. Muddle the two, and you strike at the very heart of justification by faith alone. What distinguishes the law from the gospel? The law says that you must do while the gospel says it is done. The law threatens while the gospel promises. The law proclaims condemnation, while the gospel announces justification. 

Read through the book of Galatians, and you’ll see this distinction. Paul adamantly emphasizes that a person is not justified by works of the law (Galatians 2:15-16). Is the law contrary to God’s promises? Certainly not! (Galatians 3:21). Yet, look at the way that Paul describes believers’ relationship to the law in his confrontation with Peter: “But when I saw their conduct was not in step with the truth of the gospel.” It’s relying on the works of the law that brings the curse (Galatians 3:10). We are justified by faith, and as believers, we are called to live our lives in alignment with the truth of the gospel. However, our faithfulness to living in such alignment is not what justifies. Christ does that (Romans 7:21-25 and Romans 8:1-4)!

Go and Learn

In two instances in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus quotes Hosea 6:6 and points the Pharisees to the importance of contemplating mercy. The first is after Matthew’s call, and Jesus is reclining at the table with sinners. The second is after the disciples eat heads of grain on the Sabbath. The Pharisees cannot see past their righteousness enough to discern the nature of God’s disposition toward humanity nor His purpose in sending His only begotten Son. Knowing the law full well, they missed the incarnate word standing in front of them! His words to them on both occasions? Go and learn what this means: “I desire mercy and not sacrifice.” We must not deceive ourselves that it’s others who must go and learn. We need to go and learn what this means.

When it comes to obedience and motivation, we tend to think in terms of carrots and sticks. Heaven is a carrot. Hell is a stick. The law is a stick. The gospel is a carrot. But our God is doing something greater than pushing or prodding us along to jump through behavioral hoops. We are not lab rats in His cosmic maze. He supernaturally creates faith where there was none and then faithfully sustains it through His promises. The paradox of obedience and motivation is that, on the one hand, God requires perfection, and on the other hand, He embodies it and applies it to all who believe in Christ by faith. 

Why does God despise heartless obedience? God despises heartless obedience because we can do it on our own. It bypasses Christ. God despises heartless obedience because it is merely transactional in nature. He is a relational God. 

What does obedience require? Obedience requires an alignment of actions with scripture as well as a posture of the heart attuned with Christ by faith. Obedience necessitates not only our deeds but also our wills to operate in alignment with God’s truth. In other words, obedience requires supernatural intervention. In the final analysis, the paradox of obedience and motivation is no paradox at all. Obedience doesn’t earn righteousness—it reflects the righteousness already given by grace through faith.

Pietism, Pristine Theology, and the Freedom of the Cross

The demons don’t lack right thinking about God. The most religiously devout caught the sharpest rebukes of Christ. Yet right thinking about God and striving for holiness are critical aspects of the Christian faith. How can we strike the balance in each of these areas?

Piety Versus Pietism

Piety is the pursuit of holiness to the glory of God, while pietism emphasizes the pursuit of holiness to the glory of God. Notice the distinction. One is the natural overflow of God’s ongoing work in and through our lives, while the other is the self-scripted playbook for pursuing righteousness in and through our efforts. Piety produces holiness, while pietism produces self-righteousness. 

Pristine Theology Versus Orthodoxy 

Is it more important that we wrap up all our theological loose ends or that our theology reflects the deposit of the faith entrusted to us? While the two aren’t mutually exclusive, we must focus on the latter. Focusing on the former can lead to the misalignment of our beliefs with orthodoxy as we employ philosophy and logic to the Bible and elevate our syllogisms to the level of scripture itself. 

Freedom of the Cross 

More dangerous than lapsing into lawlessness or lackadaisicalness in our Christian Living is the insidious nature of our former slavery to masquerade as our current and future freedom. In the name of Christ and righteousness, we exchange Christ and His righteousness for a return to our damnable good works. Paul reminded the Galatians and us that it is for freedom that Christ has set us free! 

Thinking right and living right do not make us right with God. They are the outworking of the Spirit in our lives. Pietism and pristine theology are cheap imitations of piety and orthodoxy. The freedom of the cross leads us into grace and truth that loves our neighbors as ourselves and crucifies the world to us. The freedom of the cross is the freedom of the Christian to live Christianly as by the Spirit.

Consistent Inconsistency

There are logical and theological inconsistencies, but there are no biblical inconsistencies. How can salvation simultaneously be entirely of God while being unlimited in the scope of its efficacy? We can answer the question in many ways, but the best way to answer it is biblically.

I was a Calvinist but have now come to embrace Lutheranism joyfully. Having come from a Calvinistic Baptist background and a stint visiting a Presbyterian congregation, I can attest to the neatness of the coherence of their soteriological views. However, what began to bother me was how those views didn’t comport with scripture. My Calvinistic and Reformed brothers and sisters will push back and point out the “inconsistency” of my views. My reply? Biblical consistency trumps logical consistency. We must align with scripture instead of aligning scripture with our logic. 

I see the scriptures misapplied in the name of consistency in two ways. First, we absolutize a biblical principle beyond the scope of what scripture itself reveals. Second, we take the average of biblical truths instead of letting them stand on their authority. These represent two opposite sides of the same interpretive fallacy coin. Let’s consider a few soteriological aspects as a way to identify, engage with, and wrestle through these fallacies.

Framework Fidelity

One approach is to take what is often referred to as a proof text and universalize it without considering other texts that bring nuance to the principle or doctrine we are advocating. The doctrine of reprobation within a Calvinistic soteriological framework is an excellent example. The go-to text for this is Romans 9, where we pit Jacob and Esau against each other as soteriological guinea pigs in our theological laboratory. One was predestined for salvation, while the other for damnation. In many Calvinistic understandings, this is the logical extension of the doctrine of unconditional election, whereby God elects to judgment and wrath. While this does make sense, it takes a passage that has a more faithful contextual interpretation and pits it against what other passages reveal about God’s universal desire for salvation. Is God the author of inconsistency or contradiction? No, He is the transcendent God whose judgment, lovingkindness, and sovereignty surpass our finite and frail minds’ ability to grasp how they intersect.

Can salvation be monergistic while also being efficacious for all? Logically, the simple answer is no. However, we must come to the scriptures with humility and let them shape our thinking instead of allowing our thinking to shape the scriptures. My reply is simply that this is what the Bible states. Read for plain meaning, and in context, it is clear that salvation is entirely a gift from God (Romans 3:21-15 and Ephesians 2:8-10). Yet it is also clear that the work of Christ is for all people (1 John 2:2 and 1 Timothy 2:2, 4:10). The goal must be faithfulness to the scriptures, not our framework.

Philosophical Cohesion

Another approach is to find the mean of the texts instead of letting the texts mean what they say. The scriptures aren’t meant for statistical regression. They are a supernatural revelation. Splitting the difference to accommodate our finite capacity to understand is inadequate. A Reformed and Lutheran perspective on perseverance and apostasy demonstrates this well. Is it possible for those who believe to forfeit their salvation? Again, what does scripture say? Will those whom God has elected persevere to glorification (Romans 8:30)? Is it impossible for anyone to snatch us out of the hand of God (John 10:28-29)? Does the Bible teach that those who were enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come can fall away without hope of repentance (Hebrews 6:4-6)?

Two of these fit nicely together, while the third throws a wrench into a theological system’s gears. One theological paradigm argues that the third cannot mean what it says because it cannot logically sync with the other two. So, that approach averages them together and appeals to other interpretive possibilities rather than the plain meaning to make them fit. However, the better way is to let God’s word stand and accept that while we cannot reconcile His persevering, electing, sovereign work with our ability to walk away, our faith in God and His word must stand above our dependence on our fallen capacities to grasp the magnitude of God’s wonder and revelation. 

It was difficult to leave the theological camp I had called home. These few soteriological issues were not the only ones that required revisiting and ultimately changing. Still, they were some of the best examples of the underlying Biblical disconnect I felt in the Calvinistic and Reformed camps. That consistent inconsistency led me to the humility of mystery and embracing the beauty of our God, who transcends our understanding while immanently attending to our wisdom.

The Power of Preaching the Gospel

Today, I entered the sanctuary running late and low. It was all I could do to muster the mental energy to get ready and out the door. It’s been a busy season, and I feel used up and worn out. However, I made it, and the simple proclamation of the gospel did its ordinary, miraculous means of grace work on my heart and mind. 

How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news! At our little Lutheran church, the music program isn’t as spectacular as the church down the road, and we don’t have a youth program because there aren’t many youth. But we have what God has called for the church to have: word and sacrament. The good news of Jesus Christ crucified for sinners is proclaimed every week. We gather around the altar rails to receive the body and blood of Christ for the forgiveness of sins. 

As I listened to the sermon today, I was grateful that the pastor didn’t settle for preaching about the gospel, missing the gospel forest for the exegetical trees, or sacrificing the gospel to be relevant. This downtrodden and enslaved heart had the atoning death of Christ pronounced for my liberation! The pastor proclaimed it in live time, and I was free! Were my problems solved and my underlying discouragements dissolved? No, but the gospel did its resurrecting work as I was reminded that Christ’s work was sufficient. 

The power of preaching the gospel does not lie in the exegetical prowess of the preacher. Nor is it contained in amusing anecdotes. The power of preaching the gospel is in the promise of God that His word does not return void and that this gospel is the power of God unto salvation. I’ve sat through many sermons about the gospel as some aspects are described like a textbook definition for a Master of Divinity student. Such a description has its place, but this is not the point of a sermon where the pastor must care for souls. 

Today’s text was from chapter two of Hebrews. While the sermon was engaging and relevant, it was also faithful. It was faithful to the text and it was a faithful proclamation of the gospel. The opening reflection discussed tyrants and slavery while encouraging us to think about how the recently released hostages felt in their newfound freedom. As the backdrop of Hebrews attested, the new followers of Christ during that period of history found themselves in a unique situation. Should they return to their old Jewish ways or persevere as followers of the way of Christ? We, too, were encouraged to reflect and respond as those who have been delivered through Christ! He is a merciful and faithful high priest who Himself was the propitiation for our sins. We are free!

Don’t underestimate the gospel. Don’t assume the gospel. Don’t relegate the gospel. Don’t settle for preaching about the gospel. The good news of Christ is for all people, and it resurrects our hearts and minds into the reality of a right-side-up kingdom in this disheartening, upside-down world. 

Christ as Cultural Adjective

Christianity finds itself perpetually distracted by the the latest undercurrents of cultural dialogue. Christian nationalism and Christian masculinity are two of the most recent. We fail to realize that when we make “Christian” an adjective, we make Christ merely a modifier. Are these issues worth consideration? Absolutely. Are they worthy of the level of attention and importance we give them? Only Christ is worthy of that.

Christian Nationalism 

Christian nationalism has been a topic of contentious debate in recent months and years. Are we pilgrims and sojourners in a foreign land or cultural conquerors? Eschatological and soteriological considerations factor into our perspective on answering that question; regardless of our view of end times, the gospel should never be a secondary or tertiary priority. 

The discussion of Christian nationalism is the second coming in many ways. However, it’s the second coming of the moral majority movement, not of Christ. Our proclivity is to pine for the effects of new wine but to forget the true power that bursts the old wineskins. We prefer to put the unshrunk patch of cultural impact onto our ecclesiastical garment but seem dumbfounded at the ensuing tear.

Prioritizing the gospel is not an abandonment to be salt and light in a world of decay and darkness. It focuses on spiritual cancer instead of cultural rashes. Why would the church exchange the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ for a wet matchstick? Beware of putting your hope in the moral and cultural pendulum swinging because it can and likely will swing back in the other direction. Christ is steadfast. 

Christian Masculinity

Christian masculinity is almost laughable as a standalone issue. It is relevant, and extremes are on either side of the cultural thought process. Are “Christian” men cantankerously devout with a scroll in one hand and a stone in the other? Should they be workaholics with a newspaper in one hand and a Bible pendant in the other? Which era should define manhood? The 50’s or the 1950’s? Or perhaps the postmodern perspective is the ticket. Should the very concept of gender be stripped from our cultural and philosophical underpinnings? G.K. Chesterton would describe this as being so open-minded that our brains fall out. 

In the movie Star Trek First Contact, Zefram Cochrane said, “Don’t try to be a great man, just be a man and let history make its own judgment.” I suggest a slight modification to fit the current cultural church moment: Don’t try to be a Christian man, just be a Christian. Am I arguing against Biblical manhood and womanhood? No. I’m calling us to put the emphasis where it belongs. 

Both of these topics are important, but they are nowhere near the level of importance we’ve allowed them in the Christian conversation. The current sociological struggles in these areas are symptoms of missing the bigger picture, and the more we treat the symptoms, the longer it will take to “find” the cure. 

We in the Christian community far too readily allow the core of our faith to become an adjective as we rush toward the verbs at breakneck speed. So, lest I be guilty of what I’ve identified here myself, allow me to point you to Christ crucified for the forgiveness of your sins. Look to His sinless life, atoning death, and victorious resurrection as the object of your faith, and live in light of that death-to-life transformation. Look to Jesus, who will return to set everything right, riding a white horse. I assure you He is more transformative than any of our cultural hobbyhorses. His is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, no mere adjective. 

Holly Jolly Melancholy

Tis the season to be jolly. What if you fall somewhere between Buddy the Elf and Ebenezer Scrooge? Christmas is a time for remembering and focusing on family and faith. However, each of those areas can be cause for sorrow and joy. 

Family

Old emotional wounds tend to flare up at Christmas like achy joints that feel a change in the weather. Others may have difficulty understanding why dark clouds hover over the Christmas decorations and events. While everyone else is singing along with Bing and Mariah, perhaps we’re feeling a bit more like Billie Eilish. 

What is it about family that can bring out the best and worst in us? Cherished memories and haunted flashbacks can surface as we attend gatherings or even think about them. Reminiscing is a double-edged sword, and it cuts through to our soul as we long for what is gone and ache for what never was. Our faith would typically be a reservoir of joy, but it can also highlight our struggle.

Faith

Sometimes the cultural goodwill softens the heart during this time of year. Other times, our faith is as distant and cold as the North Pole. Unresolved pain, being hurt by the church, guilt, or shame might leave us ironically feeling far away from God in the season we emphasize God with us. 

We’ll likely have Christmas Eve services, lots of Christmas hymns to sing, and advent sermon series to bring the incarnation into the spotlight of our spiritual lives. Yet, if we’re already feeling disconnected from God, these expressions of faith only serve to underscore the distance. Thankfully, our God seeks us out, draws us in, and reminds us that Christ has bridged any gap between us.

Foretold Joy

For those of us who tend to lean toward melancholy, lights and tinsel aren’t enough to lift our spirits. Faith and family can lead us in the opposite direction of the candy cane forest or the tenderness of a manger scene. Nonetheless, we have a tremendous reason for peace and joy. The foundation of our hope is found in something ancient and perpetually new. 

We must look past all the family baggage and celebrate our spiritual family heritage. We have to look beyond our faith to the object of our faith. We must listen anew to the angel’s pronouncement of old. “Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people” (Luke 2:10). Zechariah’s prophetic words unpacked some of the substance of that good news. 

“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has visited and redeemed his people and has raised up a horn of salvation for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old,Luke 1: 68-70

I’m happy for everyone who is able to slide into the Christmas spirit effortlessly. For those who find melancholy sprinkled into this holly, jolly season, our hope, peace, and joy can only be found where it’s always found, in Christ. 

The Breath Mint Gospel

Imagine walking into a restaurant and specifying to the waiter in no uncertain terms that you were starving and wanted the chef’s best. The waiter goes into great detail about the special of the evening and leaves your mouth watering and your stomach in a state of anticipation. Ten minutes pass, and finally, the domed luxury entree arrives, and the unveiling is set to begin your feast. As the cover is lifted, all you see in the center of the plate is a lone, pitiful after-dinner mint.

How often in our churches do we treat the gospel like that little pastel mint that quickly dissolves and never satisfies? How many sermons drone on and on with theological data only to throw a thirty-second “gospel” bone to starving souls? Recently, I saw a social media post making rounds highlighting the absurdity of saying people couldn’t sit through long sermons when they could listen to three-hour podcasts. There is an ironic truth to that sentiment; however, the real issue is when hour-long sermons only make the gospel a footnote. If we relegate the gospel to an afterthought, we’ve thought wrongly about the gospel.

We might debate whether or not a sermon should be an hour long, but there shouldn’t be a debate regarding whether or not the proclamation of Christ crucified for the forgiveness of sins and sinners in live time should be the main course on any given Sunday.  Sinners starve for the gospel throughout the week in a merit-based world. We sit through sermons that give us information any systematic theology textbook could or that only chastise us with the law’s condemnation. The theological data might be beneficial, and the law’s condemnation is the prerequisite to what is needed: our redemption by faith in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ alone. If sermons are an hour long, why wouldn’t we make the gospel the core aspect? It’s not as if there is no time.

Neither Jesus, Paul, nor Peter made the gospel an afterthought. Jesus identified the focal point of the prophets, law, and Psalms as Himself, His resurrection, and the forgiveness of sins through repentance (Luke 24:27-47). Paul’s decision to know nothing except Christ and Him crucified in his proclamation in Corinth parallels his robust articulation and ardent defense of the gospel in his letters to Rome and Galatia. Peter affirmed that the living, abiding word of God that lives forever is the good news (1 Peter 1:23-25), much like his sermon at Pentecost (Acts 2:14-41). Other examples of this gospel-emphasis feast abound. Ask yourself if what you hear on a given Sunday serves the good news as the main course or more like a breath mint. 

Our main issue isn’t bad breath. We cannot pop the gospel like a tic-tac and cover up the stench of our fallen nature. We are dead in our trespasses and sins, and we need the fragrance of the knowledge of Christ (2 Corinthians 2:13-14). The breath mint gospel is an underestimated, misunderstood application of the breathtaking good news of Christ crucified and risen for sinners. 

Reformation Thoughts for Today

The history of the Reformation has much to teach us in the present. But more importantly, the theological truths need fresh consideration and application. As we take time to remember and meditate on the implications of the protestant reformation, it is also imperative that we avoid assuming a posture of complacency. There are several patterns of thought that we, the ecclesiastical posterity of the Reformation, would do well to consider. 

Think Big

Ideas and worldviews are powerful enough to reshape the world. We don’t often think about this and get swept up in the practical details and issues instead of their glorious foundations. The doctrine of justification by faith alone was the centerpiece of the Reformation, and Luther even criticized Wycliffe and Huss for seeking moral reform when what needed reforming was the doctrine of the church. 

We might offer the same critiques of our modern church reforms. There is a push for values reform from conservative circles. More than focusing on the family, however, we need to put the focus back on the foundation of our faith. There is a push for relevance reform from the seeker-sensitive movement. Leadership gurus, survey analyses, and pastoral fashion consultants replace confessions of faith. Liberals push modernity reform and seek to modernize scripture to fit our “evolved” understanding of morality and society. 

The church today is splintered into a staggering number of groups with various philosophies of what modern reformation should be. Do we reinvent, repackage, or reapply? Even in circles that boast of Christ and Christ alone, we find ourselves with sociological peashooters instead of being armed with the sword of the spirit. Instead of getting bogged down and pulled in these directions by minutia, we need to think gospel big. 

Think Deeply

Too many of our churches affirm justification by faith alone in their doctrinal statements and carry out their ministry as if we are justified by our efforts. A cursory nod to justification by faith alone won’t do. We fail to mine the riches of the glorious gospel in the same manner that Paul did in the first eleven chapters of Romans before he gets to the appeal to practical living in chapter twelve. 

Instead of continuously meditating on and applying the gospel in all its depth, we tend to tip our hats to it and hurry along to the real business. Luther reminds us that our right standing before God by faith is an ongoing need and a subject that is never exhausted. 

We can never learn this truth completely or brag that we understand it fully. Learning this truth is an art. We will always remain students of it, and it will always be our teacher. The people who truly understand that they receive God’s approval by faith and put this into practice don’t brag that they have fully mastered it. Rather, they think of it as a pleasant taste or aroma that they are always pursuing. These people are astonished that they can’t comprehend it as fully as they would like. They hunger and thirst for it. They yearn for it more and more. They never get tired of hearing about this truth. 

While the church splashes about in the puddles of philosophical eclecticism, there is an ocean of truth to be explored in the atoning work of Christ alone. Instead of settling for the shallowness of merely acknowledging the gospel, we need to think gospel deeply. 

Think Clearly

Syncretism abounds in our society and, unfortunately, in our churches. We have a dab of the gospel, a pinch of relativism, and a dash of marketing principles. Before you know it, the gospel is indiscernible. Thinking clearly means understanding the depth of the gospel with the simplicity of a child’s faith. 

More than clever pitches to make the gospel palatable today, we need the undiluted, works-shattering good news of Christ crucified for sinners. How might we think clearly amongst all the chaos? 

First, we should return again and again to the fundamental truths of the reformation. We should be committed to being unoriginal regarding these core doctrines. Second, we should not fear the intimidating thought police of our age. Theologians without a trace of theology will ridicule us for holding to such primitive notions of reconciliation. At the same time, preachers of tolerance show no tolerance for anyone who holds truth claims of exclusivity. Rest assured that these glorious truths cannot and will not be forced into old wineskins without soon bursting. Third, simplicity is not the antithesis of depth; shallowness is. It’s okay to be simple. When we needlessly complicate things, we convolute the gospel. 

The church must sometimes feel as if its head is reeling from all the voices calling for it to follow the culture’s cries for change. Scripture is the authority, and the good news is the clarion call, so the church must quiet all the other societal noise and think with gospel clarity. 

The Reformation is over 500 years old, but if we think big, deeply, and clearly, then we twenty-first-century followers of Christ may yet feel the world-shaking impact of justification by faith alone in the days ahead. 

Simple Faith

I remember sitting in a coffee shop (I know that’s a major shock) and hearing the group next to me introducing the topic of their meeting. I overheard phrases like, “This will change your life” and “game changer,” so I was naturally curious. In anticipation, I tried to lean in covertly, but the big reveal was that this life-altering practice was the art of couponing. Who doesn’t love a good deal? Still, it was anticlimactic from the opening sales pitch.

My reaction was an internal eye roll. Yet, in retrospect, perhaps I was too harsh on that group. Simple things can be life-changing. God works through the simple means of grace to bring life. Who could imagine that ordinary water, bread, wine, and preached words would have such powerful effects? Yet they do. 
For most of my Christian life, theology was a concept to be studied and an abstraction for discussion. Now, it’s more like the daily bread needed for sustenance. I enjoy discussing, studying, and applying scripture and its overarching truths, but what I need is Christ crucified, proclaimed, and delivered to me. 

Simplicity is not synonymous with shallowness. I tended to favor debating the philosophical side of theology to embracing the tangible simplicity of God’s gospel spoken and administered. If your theology bristles at indiscriminately proclaiming the forgiveness of sins to everyone on account of Christ, then you’ve elevated reason above scripture. The wisdom of God is the foolishness of the cross. We grow most in spiritual maturity when we become childlike in faith. 

While studying is valuable, believing is greater. Faith is better than knowledge. That day in the coffee shop, I was snarky and dismissive of the coupon conversation. However, that conversation could have led to families making ends meet that week. How much greater are the sacraments our Lord has instituted to grant and sustain faith? Lord, forgive me for being too skeptical of simple faith in all its iterations. Help me to seek you in knowledge, faith, and love. 

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