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Make Disciples If I were to ask you what is the best, most practical, most helpful parenting passage in all the Bible, what would you answer? Most biblically literate Christian parents would answer, “Ephesians 6:1–4.” That is a wonderfully helpful passage, but I want to take you to one that is even more fundamental. I think my choice will surprise you. And I think I know why. You probably don’t need me to tell you this, but I will: Your Bible is not arranged by topic. I know that frustrates some of you. You kind of wish it were arranged by topic, with little tabs on the end of the page that would direct you to your topic of need or interest. Well, the Bible isn’t arranged that way. It’s not arranged as it is because God made a massive editorial error. The Bible is arranged the way it’s arranged because of wise divine intention. Your Bible is essentially a grand redemptive story. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that your Bible is a carefully theologically annotated story. It’s a redemptive story with God’s essential explanatory notes. This means you can’t approach your Bible topically and get the best that it has to offer you, because the Bible wasn’t designed to operate that way. For example, if all you do to understand parenting is go to the passages that have that word in them or seem to address that topic, you will miss the majority of the information the Bible has for you as a parent. Rather, your Bible works this way: to the degree that every passage tells you something about God, something about yourself, something about the disaster of sin, something about life in this fallen world, something about what God has called you to, and something about the operation of grace, to that degree every passage tells you about every area of your life. That’s how your Bible works. So I want to take you to a passage that almost is never mentioned in the context of parenting, but has in it everything you need to know and understand in order to experience the rest and courage of heart that fuels good, godly, perseverant parenting. I want to take you to one of the final, and surely the best known, of Jesus’s commands to his disciples. This passage is popularly known as the Great Commission, and because of that has been most often applied to the formal evangelistic mission of the church. But I am deeply persuaded that its call is much wider than that and because it is, it offers real hope and help to every Christian parent. It captures with clarity what God has called you to and what he has promised you as you take on this hugely important and life-long task. As we near the end of this book, I thought it would be helpful to consider its implications and encouragements. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:18–20) A Christian Parent’s Call I cannot think of any directive from the mouth of Jesus that is a more appropriate call to every Christian parent than this one. If someone were to ask you what the ultimate job of a parent is, what would you answer? Well, the answer is here. Your job is to do everything within your power, as an instrument in the hands of the Redeemer who has employed you, to woo, encourage, call, and train your children to willingly and joyfully live as disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ. This is more important than how they do in school, or how positively they contribute to the reputation of your family, or how well they set themselves up for a future career, or how well they do in sports and the arts, or how well they are liked by adults and peers. These things aren’t unimportant, but we must not let them rise to the importance of this one thing. Your children must come to learn early that their lives don’t belong to them. They must understand early that they have been given life and breath for the purpose of serving the glory of another. They must learn that they do not have the right to follow their own rules or write their own laws. They must surrender to the fact that their lives are meant to be shaped, not by what they want, but by what God has chosen. They need to know early that they are worshipers whose capacity to worship is meant to be owned by the One who created them with this capacity. Here’s the core mission of parents: to raise up children who approach everything in their lives as the disciples of Jesus. Now, let’s be honest here; this way of living is not natural for anyone. It’s natural for our children (and us) to live as if they are the owners of their own lives. So they don’t just need to learn that this is not true, but they need to admit their need of the grace of divine rescue, forgiveness, and empowerment. If you are going to raise willing disciples of Jesus, you need to patiently communicate the story of his amazing grace to your children again and again. You see, God’s law has no power to turn your children into disciples, but his grace does. Are you working to be used of God to make disciples of your children? This leads us to the second part of the call of Jesus. As a parent you are called to teach your children to observe everything that Jesus has commanded. It is awesome to think that God’s will extends to every single area of your children’s lives. He has a plan for their thoughts, their desires, their choices, their words, their decisions, their relationships, what they do with their bodies, what they do with their money, what they do with their worship, how they invest their time, how they conduct themselves in relationships, how they relate to authority, their relationship to the church, the way they steward their physical possessions, and what they allow to occupy their minds and capture their hearts. Our children must learn to look at life through the lens of the will and plan of their Creator. What we are talking about is helping them to develop a comprehensive biblical worldview that is a way of looking at life that is distinctively God-centered and biblically driven. Not only is this not natural, but it is also important to remember that your children will be bombarded by the seductive and attractive voices of many other competing worldviews. They will be hit again and again with other ways of thinking about who they are and the purpose of life. They will be challenged by those who don’t believe in God and who will tend to mock the faith of those who do. A Deeper Goal It’s not enough to tell your children what to do and what not to do. This passage calls every parent to a deeper goal. You must teach your children how to think about everything in a way that is pointedly God-centered. Now, if our children are ever going to think about themselves and life this way, they need to be willing to submit to the wisdom of someone greater. Let’s again admit that this is not only not natural for our children, it’s not natural for us. It’s natural for our children to think that they are right and that they know what’s best. It’s natural for our children to resist recognizing and surrendering to a greater wisdom. So once more, we are confronted with the fact that as parents, we have no power to turn our children into the thinking and living disciples of Jesus Christ. They will become his disciples only as they are rescued by his grace. As parents, we are called every day to faithfully participate in what is impossible for us to produce. And if sadly we fall into thinking that we have the power to produce it, we will invariably end up doing bad things. This is precisely where the promises of this passage are so encouraging. Perhaps you’re thinking, “How can I get up every morning to do what is impossible to do and not end up exhausted and discouraged?” The rest of the passage answers that question. Our passage makes it very clear that Jesus would not ever call you to this huge parenting task without also blessing you with his mind-blowing promises as well. If you understand and embrace his promises, then you can give yourself to participate in what is impossible for you to produce and not have discouraging or even paralyzing anxiety in your heart. In fact, good, loving, faithful, grace-driven parents only ever grow in the soil of a heart at rest. Jesus’s promises are not so much promises, but reminders of the unshakable identity of every one of his children. The two promises here are meant to remind you of what the great heavenly Father has become for you by grace. These promises define for you not only who God is, but who you are as his child. You see, your rest as a parent will never be found in the success of what you are doing or the success of what your children are doing, because there will always be some degree of struggle, weakness, and failure there. No, rest in found in the One who sent you and in what he wills always to do for each of the ones he sends to represent him. Here’s the core mission of parents: to raise up children who approach everything in their lives as the disciples of Jesus. This article is adapted from Parenting: 14 Gospel Principles That Can Radically Change Your Family by Paul David Tripp.

Misguided Advice Twenty years ago, Anna Quindlen—a writer for the New York Times, a Pulitzer Prize winner, and a recipient of prestigious honorary degrees—gave this advice to a group of graduating seniors: Each of you is as different as your fingertips. Why should you march to any lockstep? Our love of lockstep is our greatest curse, the source of all that bedevils us. It is the source of homophobia, xenophobia, racism, sexism, terrorism, bigotry of every variety and hue because it tells us that there is one right way to do things, to look, to behave, to feel, when the only right way is to feel your heart hammering inside you and to listen to what its timpani is saying. That’s fairly typical commencement counsel: “Follow your dreams. March to the beat of your own drummer. Be true to yourself.” I’d like to offer different advice: “Do not follow your dreams. Do not march to the beat of your own drummer. And whatever you do, do not be true to yourself.” If you think I’m being a little hyperbolic, you’re right. I’ll provide some nuance to this advice at the end. But I believe it’s important to state the matter provocatively because our world screams at us in thousands of commercials, movies, and songs that the best way to live, the only authentic way to live, is for you to be you, for you to live out your truth, for you to find your true self and then have the courage to live accordingly. Deceived by Desires The Bible, on the other hand, tells us, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death” (Prov. 14:12). Think of the story of Esau who sold his birthright for a pot of stew. “Let me eat some of that red stew,” he said, “for I am exhausted. I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” (Gen. 25:30, 32). Esau was consumed with his desires. Esau was defined by his desires, and they deceived him. Esau is depicted as an animal. You can see this more clearly in the original Hebrew. All he can think of is the red stuff, the red stuff (ha-adom, ha-adom). He exaggerates the extent of his need. He wasn’t literally going to die. (Like kids saying when dinner is a half hour late, “I’m starving!”). Esau is emotional and impulsive. He is fainting, gasping, gulping. You can almost see him wiping off his mouth, throwing down a napkin, and letting out a loud belch as he walks away from his meal of stew. He was not made nobler for satisfying his desires. He was made lower. He became like an animal. That’s what the text wants us to see. Esau the skillful hunter was prey to his own appetites. He had a better identity as the firstborn of Isaac, but he gave that away. He became a profane man, treating what was sacred with irreverence and disrespect. The world tells us that our identity is found in what we desire. So to deny the fulfillment of what you desire is to deny your truest identity. We are all awash in what Carl Trueman calls “expressive individualism.” The idea is that you are what you feel, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I’m sure you remember Elsa’s anthem “Let It Go” from Frozen. With its emphasis on testing the limits and breaking through, it’s no wonder the song and the character Elsa have become a favorite in the LGTBQ+ community. No right, no wrong, no rules for me I’m free. What could be more indicative of the spirit of the age? A Philosophy for Our Times Throughout most of history, philosophers and theologians have distinguished between affections (which are motions of the will) and passions (which sweep over us unbidden). That’s why the Westminster Confession says God is without parts and passions. The Westminster divines were using “passion” not as we do to mean intense zeal. They were saying, God does not have an emotional life like we do. He is Pure Act; nothing happens to him. He is never rendered passive. Consequently, the Western tradition, especially in the Christian tradition, has insisted that the lower appetites must be constrained by reason and the grace of God working within us. In fact, the Reformed tradition goes one step further and reminds us that we can be misled by all our faculties. That’s what we mean by the phrase “totally depraved”—our passions are broken, our reason is not entirely reliable, and our wills, apart from Christ, are bound to sin. Most people you will encounter in life—and maybe you, reading this today—operate with an unspoken assumption that shapes and defines every argument, every instinct, and the way you look at the world and look at yourself. The assumption is this: is equals ought. Importantly, the is here is no longer about your body. It’s not about some physical givenness. “My body tells me something true about myself even when I don’t feel that it is true.” That mindset is no longer assumed. Now it is assumed that what you feel about yourself, or believe about yourself, or perceive about yourself tells you who you are and how you should behave. Is equals ought conditions us to believe: “This is what I feel like, so this is what I should do; and if you tell me I can’t do that, or that I should be something or someone other than I feel myself to be, you are attacking the very heart of my personhood.” What’s wrong with this philosophical assumption? Besides being devoid of any objective, empirical, scientific facts, the assumption is entirely at odds with Christian anthropology. The only way is equals ought can work is if there is no doctrine of the fall—if our instincts are never self-deceived, if our desires are never self-centered, and if our dreams are never self-destructive. The salvation we all know we need is not to be found by looking within ourselves but by looking for grace outside ourselves. G. K. Chesterton said it so well: That Jones shall worship the god within him turns out ultimately to mean that Jones shall worship Jones. Let Jones worship the sun or moon, anything rather than the Inner Light; let Jones worship cats or crocodiles, if he can find any in his street, but not the god within. Christianity came into the world firstly in order to assert with violence that a man had not only to look inwards, but to look outwards, to behold with astonishment and enthusiasm a divine company and a divine captain. The only fun of being a Christian was that a man was not left alone with the Inner Light, but definitely recognized an outer light, fair as the sun, clear as the moon, terrible as an army with banners. Like most heresies, the is equals ought heresy is partially true. It grasps something we want to affirm; namely, that ethics must be rooted in ontology. That’s just a fancy way of saying identity does shape obligation. Is does equal ought, if you have a doctrine of sin, regeneration, union with Christ, and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. The great theologian of our age, Lady Gaga, was right: you were born that way. The good news of Jesus Christ is that you can be born again another way. The salvation we all know we need is not to be found by looking within ourselves but by looking for grace outside ourselves. This article is adapted from Do Not Be True to Yourself: Countercultural Advice for the Rest of Your Life by Kevin DeYoung.

The book of Ecclesiastes takes a hard look at the human experience and offers wise advice on how to live meaningfully, purposefully and joyfully. The author reflects on the experience of life and sees a busy human anthill in mad pursuit of many things, trying now this, now that, laboring away as if by dint of effort humans could master the world, lay bare its deepest secrets, change its fundamental structures, burst through the bounds of human limitations to control their destiny and achieve a state of secure and lasting happiness. In short, he sees people laboring at life with an overblown conception of human powers and consequently pursuing unrealistic hopes and aspirations. Through his reflections, the author concludes that human life is “meaningless”, its efforts all futile. And yet, what begins with “Meaningless! Meaningless!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) ends with “Remember your Creator” (12:1) and “Fear God and keep his commandments” (12:13) by the end of the book. The author offers up much wisdom along the way. Wisdom About the Human Endeavor 1 – Humans cannot by all their striving achieve anything of ultimate or enduring significance. Nothing appears to be going anywhere (1:5–11), and people cannot by all their efforts break out of this caged treadmill (1:2–4; 2:1–11). They cannot fundamentally change anything (1:12–15; 6:10; 7:13) and hence, they often toil foolishly (4:4,7–8; 5:10–17; 6:7–9). All their striving “under the sun” (1:3) after unreal goals leads only to disillusionment. 2 – Wisdom is better than folly (2:13–14; 7:1–6,11–12,19; 8:1,5; 9:17–18; 10:1–3,12–15; 12:11). It is God’s gift to those who please him (2:26). But it is unwarranted to expect too much even from such wisdom—to expect that human wisdom is capable of solving all problems (1:16–18) or of securing for itself enduring rewards or advantages (2:12–17; 4:13–16; 9:13–16). 3 – Experience confronts humans with many apparent disharmonies and anomalies that wisdom cannot unravel. Of these the greatest of all is this: Human life comes to the same end as that of the animals—death (2:15; 3:16–17; 7:15; 8:14; 9:1–3; 10:5–7). 4 – Although God made humankind upright, people have gone in search of manyfor getting ahead by taking advantage of others (see 7:29). So even humans are a disappointment (7:24–29). 5 – People cannot know or control what will come after them, or even what lies in the more immediate future. Therefore, all their efforts remain balanced on the razor’s edge of uncertainty (2:18; 6:12; 7:14; 9:2). 6 – God keeps humans in their place (3:16–22). 7 – God has ordered all things (3:1–15; 5:19; 6:1–6; 9:1) and a human being cannot change God’s appointments or fully understand them or anticipate them (3:1; 7; 11:1–6). But the world is not fundamentally chaotic or irrational. It is ordered by God, and it is for humans to accept matters as they are by God’s appointments, including their own limitations. Everything has its “time” and is good in its time (chapter 3). Practical Counsel for Wise Living 1 – Accept the human state as it is, shaped by God’s appointments, and enjoy the life you have been given as fully as you can. 2 – Don’t trouble yourself with unrealistic goals—know the measure and limitations of human capabilities. 3 – Be prudent in all your ways—follow wisdom’s leading. 4 – “Fear God and keep his commandments” (12:13), beginning already in your youth before the fleeting days of life’s enjoyments are gone and “the days of trouble” (12:1) come when the infirmities of advanced age vex you and hinder you from tasting, seeing and feeling the good things of life. Ecclesiastes provides instruction on how to live meaningfully, purposefully and joyfully under the reign of God. This is done primarily by placing God at the center of one’s life, work and activities. And, by contentedly accepting one’s divinely appointed lot in life, reverently trusting in and obeying the Creator-King. (Note particularly 2:24–26; 3:11–14,22; 5:18–20; 8:15; 9:7–10; 11:7—12:1; 12:9–14.) The Author of Ecclesiastes The narrator presents the Teacher as Solomon (1:1,12), but many scholars now think that the Teacher was not actually Solomon but one whom we are to imagine as like Solomon with his wisdom and power. We know from 12:9 – 10 that the Teacher was a wisdom teacher who carefully gathered and arranged his material as he taught the people. We do not know the identity of the narrator who presents the Teacher’s sayings, and so overall the author of Ecclesiastes is unknown. To understand Ecclesiastes, however, it is important to note that the narrator, whose voice is heard in 1:1; 7:27 and in the epilogue (12:9 – 14), presents the Teacher’s journey and teachings in the context of his introduction, conclusion, and note in 7:27. When Ecclesiastes Was Written A variety of dates have been proposed for Ecclesiastes. Some argue that its type of Hebrew and the presence of Persian loanwords confirm that it was not written in Solomon’s time, but this could just mean that a much earlier book was updated at a later time. Ecclesiastes’ skepticism could show awareness of Greek philosophical influence, but evidence for such skepticism is also found much earlier. If the Persian loanwords and Greek influence do indicate the date of writing, then Ecclesiastes was most likely written in the postexilic period, probably in the fourth century BC. At that time it would have appeared to many, in what was left of Israel, as if God’s purposes with them had run aground, thereby giving rise to the sort of questions the teacher struggles with. However, we cannot be sure of the date when Ecclesiastes was written. Literary Genre and Structure The argument found in Ecclesiastes does not flow smoothly. It meanders, with jumps and starts through the general messiness of human experience, to which it is a response. There is also an intermingling of poetry and prose. The announced theme of “meaninglessness” (futility) provides a literary frame around the whole (1:2; 12:8). And the movement from the unrelieved disillusionment of (chapters 1–2) to the more serene tone and sober instructions for life (chapters 11–12) marks a development in matured wisdom’s coming to terms with the human situation. A striking feature of the book is its frequent use of key words and phrases: e.g., “meaningless”, “work / labor / toil”, “good / better”, “gift / give”, “under the sun”, and “chasing after the wind”. The enjoyment of life as God gives it is also a key concept in the book (see 2:24–26; 3:12–13,22; 5:18–20; 7:14; 8:15; 9:7–9; and 11:8–9). Summary The author of Ecclesiastes ultimately affirms life and joy but only as the end result of a struggle with the brokenness of life in a fallen world. With a wisdom matured by many years, the author takes the measure of human beings, examining their limits and their lot. He attempts to see what human wisdom can do (1:13,16–18; 7:24; 8:16) and shares he has discovered that human wisdom,­ even when it has its beginning in “the fear of the Lord”, has limits to its powers when it attempts to go it alone—limits that circumscribe its perspectives and relativize its counsel. Most significantly, it cannot find out the larger purposes of God or the ultimate meaning of human existence. With respect to these, it can only pose questions. Content drawn from the NIV Study Bible, Fully Revised Edition and the NIV Biblical Theology Study Bible.

Inadequacy of Isolated Words For a long time, I have been troubled by the inadequacy of the words faith and belief and trust (or any other single words) to make clear what is required in order to be saved. One might object, “But those are the very words that Scripture uses to describe how to be saved. ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved’ (Acts 16:31). Are you saying that God doesn’t know how best to communicate the way of salvation?” No, I am not saying that. I am saying that in the Scriptures these words are not isolated. They are bricks embedded in the beautiful building of God-inspired truth. Words by themselves cannot carry the reality they are intended to carry unless we see the design that the skillful brick masons were creating when they put the bricks together the way they did. Or to say it more prosaically, we will not know what faith and belief and trust mean unless we press into the way they are used in the most illuminating biblical Even our own experience impels us to probe into those contexts for more depth and precision. Experience teaches us to probe for distinctions. We know there are different kinds of faith and different ways of trusting. For example, experience teaches us that it is possible, even necessary at times, to trust a person with our lives whom we neither love, nor admire, nor even want to be around. Which of these two would we trust for our brain surgery: a foulmouthed, dishonest, lustful, highly skilled, highly effective surgeon at the top of his profession, or a kind, honest, chaste young surgeon with little actual experience? We would trust the lecher with our life. Which means what? Something Has Been Assumed The traditional way of describing saving faith has always assumed something. For centuries, theologians have assumed that saving faith includes more than the confidence that Christ is competent, like the lecherous surgeon. When the three traditional descriptions of faith were used, there was an assumption that the word fiducia (cordial trust) alongside notitia (knowledge) and assensus (mental assent) included more than trusting Jesus as an ignominious but effective rescuer from hell. None of those who used the word fiducia (trust) to describe the heart of saving faith intended a kind of trust that views Jesus as disliked, unadmirable, undesired, distasteful, repugnant. They would have said, “Saving faith does not experience Christ that way.” Theologians and pastors and thoughtful laypeople have always known that the isolated words faith and believe contain ambiguities that need clarification. And they have endeavored to see these words embedded in the biblical texts designed by God to clarify and fill up their meaning. I will try to show from some of these texts that part of that fullness is the affectional dimension of saving faith. Treasuring Is Not Just One Thing I use the term treasuring Christ as my default summary expression of the affectional nature of saving faith. I take the verb treasure to be a fitting experiential counterpart to the noun treasure. I argue that Christ is the essence of the treasure in texts like Matthew 13:44, “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field”; and 2 Corinthians 4:7, “We have this treasure in jars of clay.” When I say that treasuring Christ is my summary expression of the affectional nature of saving faith, I mean to imply that there are diverse affections in the nature of saving faith, not just one. The heart experiences treasuring Christ differently as it embraces different aspects of Christ’s greatness and beauty and worth. There is joyful treasuring, because we taste the substance of the joy set before us (Heb. 11:1; 12:2). There is treasuring like the satisfying of hunger, because Christ is the bread of life (John 6:35, 51). There is treasuring like the pleasure of quenched thirst, because Christ is the fountain of living water (John 4:10–11). There is treasuring like the love of light after darkness, because Christ is the radiance of divine glory (John 1:14; 3:19). There is treasuring like the love of truth, because Christ in the gospel is the preciousness of true reality (2 Thess. 2:10–12). And this list could be extended as far as there are glories of Christ to be known. Saving faith treasures them all, as each is known. All are precious. All are treasured. But the affectional experience is not the same in each case. So it is in the way Christ is received by saving faith. Christ Treasured in All His Excellencies Perhaps I should clarify an important implication lest I be misunderstood in speaking of Jesus as our treasure. In calling Jesus a treasure, I do not mean that he is a treasure alongside other roles or excellencies. I mean that he is a treasure in all his roles and excellencies. We may speak loosely about receiving Christ as Lord and Savior and treasure. I regularly use that way of speaking. But I do not mean that his worth is like a third role he plays alongside Lord and Savior. Rather, when we focus on Jesus as our treasure, we include all that he is: treasured Savior, treasured Lord, treasured wisdom, treasured righteousness, treasured friend, treasured living water, treasured bread of heaven, and more. Christ as a treasure is not a slice of Christ. It is every dimension of Christ—all of Christ—making up the totality of his infinite value. Supreme Treasure? Saving faith has in it the affectional dimension of treasuring Christ. Where Christ is not received as treasure, he is being used. This is not saving faith. It is tragic that many think it is. Saving faith always views Christ as having supreme value. That is how he is received. To embrace Christ as a second- or third-tier treasure is not saving faith. It is an affront. Jesus told a story to illustrate how it offends him when we fail to treasure him above the things of this world: A man once gave a great banquet and invited many. And at the time for the banquet he sent his servant to say to those who had been invited, “Come, for everything is now ready.” But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, “I have bought a field, and I must go out and see it. Please have me excused.” And another said, “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused.” And another said, “I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.” So the servant came and reported these things to his master. Then the master of the house became angry. (Luke 14:16–21) Real estate. Possessions. Family. To prefer these over the treasure of Christ makes him angry. It is an affront to him and destruction to us. Of course, the story doesn’t end there. It gets better and worse. The anger of the host is transposed into the compassion of the Great Commission. If my people will not treasure what I offer, “Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame. . . . Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled” (Luke 14:21, 23). But for those who would not treasure the Master, judgment falls: “I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet” (Luke 14:24). Saving faith receives Christ as a treasure, but not as second to lands, oxen, or spouses. He is valued above them. Or he is rejected. Embracing him as one among many useful treasures is worse than useless. It is worse because it gives the impression that he is willing to be used. He is not. He will be received as our supreme treasure, or not at all. Saving faith always views Christ as having supreme value. This article is adapted from What Is Saving Faith?: Reflections on Receiving Christ as a Treasure by John Piper.

Acts 5:1–11 - 1. But a man named Ananias, with his wife Sapphira, sold a piece of property, 2. and with his wife’s knowledge he kept back for himself some of the proceeds and brought only a part of it and laid it at the apostles’ feet. 3. But Peter said, “Ananias, why has Satan filled your heart to lie to the Holy Spirit and to keep back for yourself part of the proceeds of the land? 4. While it remained unsold, did it not remain your own? And after it was sold, was it not at your disposal? Why is it that you have contrived this deed in your heart? You have not lied to man but to God.” 5. When Ananias heard these words, he fell down and breathed his last. And great fear came upon all who heard of it. 6. The young men rose and wrapped him up and carried him out and buried him. 7. After an interval of about three hours his wife came in, not knowing what had happened. 8. And Peter said to her, “Tell me whether you sold the land for so much.” And she said, “Yes, for so much.” 9. But Peter said to her, “How is it that you have agreed together to test the Spirit of the Lord? Behold, the feet of those who have buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out.” 10. Immediately she fell down at his feet and breathed her last. When the young men came in they found her dead, and they carried her out and buried her beside her husband. 11. And great fear came upon the whole church and upon all who heard of these things. New Covenant Context The account of Ananias and Sapphira causes understandable trouble for readers. Some believe their punishment to be “harsh,” exceeding the principle of “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” (Matt. 5:38; cf. Ex. 21:24; Lev. 24:20; Deut. 19:21). However, we should read this account in the context of the description of the believing community that begins at Acts 4:32. This community is living proof of the Spirit’s indwelling in fulfillment of new covenant promises. The believers are living for one another in unity, voluntarily sharing what they have, devoted to prayer, and committed to the apostles. Barnabas provides an example of the kind of other-focused ethos that prevails among the Jerusalem Christians. Ananias and Sapphira, in contrast, sell a field and secretly keep back some of the money but bring their gift as though it was all of the proceeds. It was their field and money, and they could do with it as they pleased. They were under no compulsion to sell it, nor to bring all of the proceeds, as Peter makes clear (Acts 5:4). But Sapphira’s lies are a clear indication that the couple intends to mislead Peter and the rest of the community (Acts 5:8). Instead of prayer and praise to God, the couple engages in falsehood (Acts 5:3–4). Instead of being filled with the Spirit, they are “filled” with Satan (Acts 5:3). There is more involved here than telling a lie. The new covenant context is key to understanding this text. The Spirit dwells in the community: God is present in and with them. Thus in the apostles and community we see the true people of God. The place and role of the temple and of the Jewish leaders are eclipsed by the church—they are not replacing but fulfilling national Israel, through faith in Israel’s Messiah and in fulfillment of Israel’s Scripture according to the plan and foreknowledge of Israel’s God. God now dwells not in a building made by human hands, as Stephen puts it later (Acts 7), but with his people. Lying to the community and the apostles is, thus, lying to God himself (Acts 5:4). The community itself, as Wright puts it, is sacred. Once again we see a narrative description of truths taught in propositional form in the Epistles. Some years later Peter writes to believers, citing OT texts such as Psalm 118 (cf. Acts 4:11), and says: As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For it stands in Scripture: “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a cornerstone chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” So the honor is for you who believe, but for those who do not believe, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,” and “A stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense.” They stumble because they disobey the word, as they were destined to do. But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. (1 Pet. 2:4–10) The Jerusalem Christians are a living example of Peter’s description of the church. It is in this context that Ananias and Sapphira sin. Like the OT examples of Nadab and Abihu (Leviticus 10), Achan (Joshua 7), and King Uzziah (2 Chronicles 26), in which people are punished for sins related to both temple and community, so Ananias and Sapphira are punished for bringing sin into the new covenant sanctuary. Another new covenant aspect involves the issue of lying specifically. Zechariah prophesied a time in which God would turn to do good to Judea and Jerusalem (Zech. 8:6–8), a time of eschatological blessing in which “many peoples and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem and to entreat the favor of the Lord” (Zech. 8:22). It is in this prophetic context that God commands the people, “Speak the truth to one another; render in your gates judgments that are true and make for peace; do not devise evil in your hearts against one another, and love no false oath, for all these things I hate, declares the Lord” (Zech. 8:16–17). Truth telling is a characteristic of the new covenant and of the relationships its members are to have with one another. Thus Paul tells the Ephesians, while encouraging them to renewal and spiritual vitality, “Having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another” (Eph. 4:25). Ananias and Sapphira bring falsehood to a place in which there should be only truth, and their particular form of lying at this place and time witnesses to the fact that they are not truly a part of the new community. Furthermore, Luke’s ongoing emphasis on the Spirit’s filling of believers, making it clear that their actions are Spirit-driven, stands in contrast to Peter’s statement that Satan, the Father of Lies (John 8:44), filled Ananias to lie (Acts 5:3). Spirit-filled prayer, praise, and gospel declaration come from the mouths of the believers, but Satan-filled lies come from this couple. Instead of living waters flowing from their hearts, in fulfillment of the promise of the Spirit (John 7:38), evil deception flows instead. These are not believers punished for lying but unbelievers filled with Satan and bringing wickedness into the covenant setting as a satanic attack. The contrast between the Spirit and Satan leads to the conclusion that Ananias and Sapphira are not lapsed believers, nor do they lose their salvation. They are like Judas, deceived by Satan and in rebellion against God. And like Judas, they meet with a decisive, fatal end (Acts 5:5, 10). Thus Luke is not first and foremost describing how to deal with lying in the church. Ananias and Sapphira are not church members disciplined for their sin. Their sin, against the overwhelming Spirit-filled context, points to their unbelief. They betray the community and show their true nature. Lying to God Furthermore, just as the miracles and boldness of the apostles is a manifestation of God’s working through them, so here the judgment of death originates not with Peter or the community but with God. Peter is merely the agent and messenger of God’s verdict over the couple. Peter tells Ananias that he has lied to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3) and then repeats the idea with a slight but important change: “You have not lied to man but to God” (Acts 5:4). Thus lying to the Holy Spirit is the same as lying to God—which implies that the Spirit is God. The divinity of the Spirit is also alluded to in Peter’s words to Sapphira: he asks her why she and Ananias “agreed together to test the Spirit of the Lord” (Acts 5:9). This language is reminiscent of OT texts concerning Israel’s testing of God (e.g., Ex. 17:2; Num. 14:22; Deut. 6:16; Pss. 95:9; 106:14). Peter either believes the Spirit is divine or is not being careful or mindful of what he is saying. The second option seems impossible, to say the least. The deaths of Ananias and Sapphira provide more evidence of the shift from the old covenant to the new. Judgment is carried out not on the temple grounds or in the council of Israel’s leaders but in the community of believers led by the apostle Peter. He is the one with the authority to speak on God’s behalf, and through him comes God’s judgment for unfaithfulness. God is with the believers in both salvation and judgment. The word “fear” appears after both deaths (Acts 5:5, 11) and connotes the healthy fear of the Lord that comes from knowing who he is and recognizing what he is able to do. This fear now grows in the company of believers, apart from the temple and those who rejected Jesus Christ of Nazareth. Truth telling is a characteristic of the new covenant and of the relationships its members are to have with one another. This article is by Brian Vickers and is adapted from the ESV Expository Commentary: John–Acts (Volume 9) edited by Iain M. Duguid, James M. Hamilton Jr., and Jay Sklar.

This article is part of the Unpacking Culture series in which we examine a well-known axiom and weigh any true or positive aspects of it against any negative or misleading connotations of the phrase. The Age of Authenticity The slang phrase “you do you” may seem innocuous enough. Picture a large group of twenty-somethings sharing a dinner at a pizza restaurant, trying to decide whether to place one order of pizzas to share or let each individual order separately. Even if a quorum lands on a couple of pizzas that sound good to everyone, invariably a dissenter or two will protest, preferring something else on the menu. Rather than reason together to achieve full consensus (a possibly arduous, painfully long process—they’re hungry!), they simply release the dissenter to order separately: Suit yourself, man. You do you! We’ve all been there—whether in placing dinner orders or deciding how to spend free time on a family vacation. Consensus is hard, especially in an individualistic culture where “have it your way” consumerism is the air we breathe. Sometimes it’s just easier to say, You do you, I’ll do me, and let each person go their separate way, like the modern family whose every member sits at the dinner table glued to their own personal device. They’re alone together; sharing the same space but living in different worlds. Beyond these situational contexts, however, “you do you” has taken on a bigger cultural meaning. Defined in various places as “the act of doing what one believes is the right decision, being oneself” (Urban Dictionary) or as a phrase “used to say that someone should do what they think is best, what they enjoy most, or what suits their personality" (Cambridge Dictionary), “You do you” has become a symbolic phrase that perfectly captures the spirit of what Charles Taylor calls the “Age of Authenticity.” If on the surface it evokes the “virtues” of rugged individualism and personal empowerment, the deeper implications of “you do you” are rather foreboding. For in a fallen world where the “heart is deceitful, above all things, and desperately sick” (Jer. 17:9), do we really want to encourage one another to just do whatever we think is best? Whatever is “right in our own eyes”? Read the book of Judges—or countless other historical accounts of self-made morality—and you’ll quickly see this never ends well. Biblical wisdom exposes many problematic dimensions of the “you do you” mentality, but here are just three. 1. “You do you” weakens community and fosters foolishness. As the pizza-restaurant-ordering example above illustrates, community can be complicated. In an age when convenience and efficiency are high values, community can feel like an inconvenience that slows you down. “You do you” is an anthem of liberation from the constraints of community. The old saying is wise: “If you want to go fast, go alone; if you want to go far, go together.” But in today’s world, going fast trumps going far. Thus, “you do you” prevails over “let’s do this together.” This is to our detriment. Community is not only a gift for our sustainability (“going far”), but it’s also a gift for our survival, both in a literal sense—what infant would long survive without its family?—and in a spiritual sense. Whether we’re deciding on a college to attend or a job offer to take, a person to marry or a financial decision to make, we “go it alone” to our folly. We should want people in our lives to speak hard truths when necessary, redirect our errant paths, and grab us from the brink of self-imposed disaster. God puts people into our lives not to rubber stamp our every whim and fancy, but to point us to truth and offer wise advice—not to shrug and say “you do you” while we walk off a ledge, but to boldly say, “you should do,” even if it’s hard for us to hear. “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes,” declares Proverbs 12:15, “but a wise man listens to advice.” Indeed, a “you do you” world perpetuates the foolishness that comes when we downplay the collective wisdom of community and champion the autonomy of individuals to do what is right in their own eyes. 2. “You do you” provides cover for sin. Big problems arise when a culture’s “you do you” value is applied to morality. When we’ve moved past the antiquated “shoulds” and “shall nots” of ethics based on a transcendent source, all that’s left is “you do you”—to each their own. But that spells trouble. If “you do you” is as much as we can muster as a moral metric, we set society up to excuse all manner of sin under the banner of “being oneself.” The novelist Colson Whitehead, writing about “you do you” for the New York Times (“How ‘You Do You’ Perfectly Captures Our Narcissistic Culture”), reflects on the problem of “you do you” as a hall pass for bad behavior: “You do you,” taken to its extreme, provides justification for every global bad actor. The invasion of Ukraine is Putin being Putin, Iran’s nuclear ambitions Khamenei being Khamenei. Even if we’re not talking about warmongering dictators, “you do you” provides cover for sins closer to home. A married man and father of young children says his authentic self demands he divorce his wife so that he can be with another lover. A teenage girl feels she is a boy and seeks hormone treatments and “top surgery” without her parents’ knowledge. A college student engages in habitual use of psychedelic mushrooms because it “makes her happy.” On what grounds could a “you do you” world protest any of these actions? Far from liberating, “you do you” as a moral framework is cruel. By nature we struggle to make wise decisions in isolation from others. Paul speaks for all of us when he writes in Romans 7:15: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” For natural born sinners like us—prone to wander, self-deceive, and self-destruct—“you do you” is terrible advice. 3. “You do you” leads to loneliness and despair. Proverbs 26:12 captures why “you do you” leads not to fulfillment, but hopelessness: “Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him.” Why? Because we are made to grow in interdependent community, sharpened by and accountable to others, not in isolation. We are created to flourish within our Creator’s laws and design, not to make our own rules and re-create ourselves as we wish. As I write in The Wisdom Pyramid, the relativistic posture of “you do you” / “your truth” not only weakens community and cultivates moral chaos, but it also puts an incredible, self-justifying burden on the individual: If we are all self-made projects whose destinies are wholly ours to discover and implement, life becomes a rat race of performative individuality. “Live your truth” autonomy is thus as exhausting as it is incoherent… “Your truth” autonomy invariably leads to loneliness. It erroneously suggests we can live unencumbered and uninfluenced by the various structures that surround us (families, churches, cultures, biology, etc.). But it becomes impossible to form community when everyone is their own island, with no necessary reliance upon larger truths or embeddedness within a bigger story. Within societies, “you do you” creates hyper-fragmented atomization where consensus and coalitions of every sort become impossible. Within families, “you do you” fosters tension, infighting, and inevitable fracture. Within the church, “you do you” undermines discipleship (which calls every individual not to be “authentic” to themselves, but to become more like Jesus). For sinful man, “you do you” sounds nice. We naturally want to do what we want, to have it our way, to live “our truth.” But this is actually the path to loneliness, grief, and ultimately destruction. Better Than “You Do You” Biblical wisdom calls us to a far better mantra than “you do you,” and Proverbs 3:5–7 captures it well: Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. Instead of “you do you” (leaning on your own understanding and being wise in your own eyes), which is the path to foolishness and pain, we should trust in God. Our way will lead to wandering. His way will make our path straight. So love your friends, families, and neighbors by avoiding the tepid “you do you” response when you see them making poor choices. Instead of sanctioning their subjective whims, point them to the objective, higher wisdom of God. Remind them that it might at first feel like a constraint, but in the end God’s wisdom will bring “healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones” (Prov. 3:8). We are made to grow in interdependent community, sharpened by and accountable to others, not in isolation. Brett McCracken is the author of The Wisdom Pyramid: Feeding Your Soul in a Post-Truth World.

The Meaning of Worthy What is implied in Paul’s exhortation “Only let your manner of life be worthy [axios] of the gospel of Christ”? In English versions of the New Testament, the Greek word axios is usually translated “worthy.” But its flavor is expressed elsewhere when it is translated “in keeping with” (Matt. 3:8; Acts 26:20). Like many other words, there is a picture lying behind the origin of axios. It means “Properly, ‘bringing up the other beam of the scales,’ ‘bringing into equilibrium,’ and therefore ‘equivalent.’” The basic idea is that a life that is worthy of the gospel of Christ expresses in the form of a lifestyle what the gospel teaches in the form of a message. Such a life takes on a character that reflects the character of the Lord Jesus Christ. When I was a boy, my morning chore before school was to collect some of the provisions our family would need for the meals of the day. One of my tasks was to go to the local butcher. My mother charged me to ask for a specific cut of meat and a specific weight of it. In those now far-off days our butcher used old-fashioned scales with two pans. On one he placed weights to the amount I asked for. On the other he measured out the meat, adding to it or subtracting from it until the central pointer indicated a perfect balance between the two pans. It was fun to watch him add or subtract the meat in order to get just the right balance. Simple but ingenious! That is the picture the word axios conveys. On the one hand, here is the gospel. And on the other hand, here is your life. And Paul’s exhortation is this: Live in such a way that your life “weighs the same” as the gospel! Live in a way that is “in keeping with” the gospel, that “matches” the gospel. This is what “the balanced Christian life” looks like. The gospel is the message of the good news of Jesus Christ, and our lives are to be the embodiment of that good news. Put another way, the gospel is “the power of God for salvation” (Rom. 1:16), and we are to live in a powerfully saved way! For Paul this was neither a trivial nor an optional matter. It was instead a “one and only” kind of thing, an essential. A Kind of Citizenship But “worthy” is not the only picture word Paul uses here. When he writes “let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel,” he uses the Greek verb politeuomai. It is derived from the word for a city (polis, the source of our word politics). Literally it means “live as a citizen.” Paul could have used the verb meaning “walk,” as he does in Ephesians (“walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called”—Eph. 4:1) and Colossians (“walk in a manner worthy of the Lord”—Col. 1:10). But you can probably guess why he uses citizenship language. Philippi was a Roman colony; its civic life was structured according to Roman law and the Roman way of life. Citizens of Philippi were Roman citizens. That was why the local magistrates there had been so alarmed when they discovered that the man whose garments they had torn off and whom they had beaten with rods without due process of law and then thrown into prison—this man was in fact a Roman citizen. No wonder they came to Paul eating humble pie (Acts 16:22–23, 37–40). Paul may simply have been saying in Philippians 1:27, “As citizens in Philippi live your life in a way that reflects the gospel.” But there is almost certainly more. Was Lydia, who had first welcomed him, still there? The jailer and his family whom Paul had pointed to Christ surely were. And perhaps too the young slave girl Paul had rescued from abusive men and abusive spirits was listening. Paul was reminding them, “Our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20). Philippi was not in Italy but in Macedonia. But a Philippian lived there as a citizen of Rome, according to Roman law, following the patterns of life in the capital city. Paul’s message, then, was that while his friends were living in Philippi, their real citizenship was heavenly; their church family was a colony of heaven here on earth. And because that was true, they were to live not according to the pattern of life of any earthly city but according to the pattern of life of the heavenly city, the new Jerusalem. In short, the Christian life is to be a version of “heaven on earth.” The privilege could not be greater; and the standard could not be higher! For that reason, the summons could not be more demanding—nothing less than all-embracing. And yet, for all that, Paul’s exhortation is a million miles from legalism because he understands how the gospel works. The grace of God in Christ provides us with a new identity, a heavenly one; it follows that this—and not our natural identity—determines everything we do. Our identity, our citizenship, is heavenly. As Paul says elsewhere, our lives are “hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3), and when Christ appears, to bring about our final transformation into his likeness, then our true identity will become clear (Phil. 3:20–21; Col. 3:4; 1 John 3:1–2). What, then, could be more logical, more compelling, than to live in this world as those who are citizens of another world? Like Daniel in the Old Testament, we are called to live out the lifestyle of the Jerusalem (above) to which we belong, even when we live in the Babylon (below), where we don’t really belong. So we are to “sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land” (Ps. 137:4). That’s not a matter of legalism, for “his commandments are not burdensome” (1 John 5:3). Jesus tells us that being yoked to him, the meek and lowly one, brings ease, not dis-ease, and rest, not restlessness, for our souls (Matt. 11:28–30). The grace of God in Christ provides us with a new identity, a heavenly one; it follows that this—and not our natural identity—determines everything we do. This article is adapted from Worthy: Living in Light of the Gospel by Sinclair B. Ferguson.

Quick—what was the best gift you ever received? How did you feel when you opened it? What made it so special? For me, it was “Fort Legoredo”—a LEGO cowboy fortress. When I was about eight years old, my Grandma Rose stunned me with this lavish surprise after all the other presents had been opened on Christmas morning. I never thought I would own a LEGO set so massive and so cool. (And I’ve got the video footage of me weeping joyfully in a heap of wrapping paper to prove it!) As far as I know, the Apostle Paul never played with LEGO forts. But he did know a thing or two about lavish gifts. You might say that lavish giving is the theme of 2 Corinthians 9. In this section of his letter, Paul encourages the church at Corinth—a wealthy trading center—to give generously to a financial offering that Paul was arranging for needy Jesus followers in the city of Jerusalem. Paul even employs some playful competition to motivate the Corinthians in their giving. In 2 Corinthians 9:2, he writes: “For I know your eagerness to help, and I have been boasting about it to the Macedonians, telling them that since last year you in Achaia were ready to give; and your enthusiasm has stirred most of them to action.” (Apparently Paul knew the power of a matching gift in a fundraising campaign!) Now consider this: How would you feel if your pastor told you that he was writing you a letter about why you need to give more generously to the ministry of the church? (Yikes.) Opening that letter might feel a little different than opening a special present on Christmas morning. It might feel more like unwrapping a big old pile of guilt rather than a delightful gift. Sadly, it’s far too easy to take the good news of the Gospel and twist it into a crushing law. It isn’t hard to imagine a guilt-trip version of 2 Corinthians 9. Paul could have looked down his nose, wagged his finger at the Corinthian church, and piled on a long list of rules about their giving. “Make sure you’re giving generously! Make sure you’re giving intentionally! Make sure you’re giving sacrificially!” But Paul knew better. For one thing, he makes it clear that God isn’t all that interested in “guilt-trip giving.” In 2 Corinthians 9:7, he explains, “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” Your giving is ultimately between you and the Lord. Don’t let anyone manipulate your conscience just to increase the size of your donation! Second, Paul knew that authentic Christian giving has more in common with that warm, fuzzy, Christmas morning feeling than we might initially realize. All of us are gift-receivers before we are gift-givers. The only reason we can give cheerfully and generously to God—and to others—is because God first gave cheerfully and generously to us (1 John 4:19). That’s why in Paul’s fundraising letter, the primary giver in view isn’t the Corinthians—it’s God! He is the ultimate cheerful giver. Maybe some of your favorite Bible verses declare this very truth: • “Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given.” (John 1:16) • “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) • “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32) • “Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” (Ephesians 5:1-2) • “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” (James 1:17) Jumping back to 2 Corinthians 9, consider the many ways Paul basks in the generous grace of God in this chapter: • “And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:8) • “Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness.” (2 Corinthians 9:10) • “You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God.” (2 Corinthians 9:11) • “Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15) You can almost picture the joyful tears in Paul’s eyes—not unlike an astonished little boy on Christmas morning—as he penned that climactic doxology in verse 15. More than anyone else, he—a former murderer and persecutor of Christ and his church—knew the overwhelming joy of sins forgiven and a heart set free to serve the Lord. For the Corinthians—and for us—that lavish gift of grace should motivate us to give freely, generously, and joyfully to others. No guilt necessary. Thanks be to God, indeed! By Jack Newman, Stewardship Communications Manager, Biblica.

Evidence for the Resurrection For two thousand years, Christians have insisted that Jesus rose physically from the dead on the Sunday after his crucifixion. The historicity of the resurrection is central to Christian theology because Jesus’s death and resurrection are both tied to our salvation. While most religions teach that we are saved on the basis of the good things we do, Christianity teaches that we are saved on the basis of what Jesus did for us. The Bible insists that while we were still far from God, ignoring him, rejecting him, and rebelling against him, God drew near to us in Christ to bear our sin, to take our punishment, and to die on the cross in our place. The resurrection was God’s confirmation that Jesus was who he claimed to be, and it is God’s assurance to Christians that they have been forgiven. Because of its theological significance, many people assume that the resurrection is merely an article of religious faith, not an event for which there could be any historical evidence. But that is not the case. In fact, I would argue that even from a purely secular standpoint, the evidence for the resurrection of Jesus is quite strong. For instance, skeptic Jeffery Lowder, a cofounder of Internet Infidels, writes that “strong historical arguments” can be made for the resurrection. Although he thinks that such arguments are insufficient, he agrees that “for theists [people who believe in God’s existence] . . . the resurrection is a plausible explanation.” Similarly, renowned atheist-turned-deist philosopher Antony Flew affirms that “the evidence for the resurrection is better than for claimed miracles in any other religion. It’s outstandingly different in quality and quantity.” Jewish scholar Pinchas Lapide even states, “I accept the resurrection of Easter Sunday not as an invention of the community of disciples, but as a historical event.” What historical evidence was sufficient to convince these non-Christians that the resurrection should be taken seriously and not carelessly dismissed? Although there are other lines of evidence, I’ll sketch an argument for the historicity of the resurrection that rests on four main points: the death and burial of Jesus, the empty tomb, the belief of the apostles, and the conversion of Paul. 1. Jesus’s Death and Burial Contemporary historians are virtually unanimous in their acceptance of Jesus’s death on the cross. His death by crucifixion is the single fact most mentioned in all the historical records of his life, both Christian and non-Christian. It is recorded in numerous books of the New Testament, including all four Gospels, Acts, Paul’s letters, Hebrews, 1 Peter, and Revelation. It is mentioned by non-Christians like Josephus and Tacitus. It is discussed in apocryphal gospels such as the Gospel of Peter and the Gospel of Truth. And it is referenced by numerous early Christian writings, including 1 Clement and the epistles of Barnabas and Polycarp. Moreover, it is extremely unlikely that the early Christians would have invented the story that their Savior was an executed criminal. Agnostic Bart Ehrman writes: It is hard today to understand just how offensive the idea of a crucified messiah would have been to most first-century Jews. . . . Since no one would have made up the idea of a crucified messiah, Jesus must really have existed, must really have raised messianic expectations, and must really have been crucified. New Testament scholar Gerd Lüdemann captures the scholarly consensus when he writes, “The fact of the death of Jesus as a consequence of crucifixion is indisputable.” Similarly, there is strong evidence for the historicity of Jesus’s burial. Most importantly, Jesus’s burial is recorded in all four Gospels. The burial of Jesus is also explicitly mentioned in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, written in the late AD 50s, around thirty years after Jesus’s death, and it probably reflects a much earlier creed. Given that multiple attestation is one of the major criteria by which New Testament scholars adjudicate the historicity of an event, the fact that several independent sources reference the same event strongly suggests that it is historical. Second, the Gospels all claim that Jesus was buried by Joseph of Arimathea, a member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish religious court that condemned Jesus to death. It seems unlikely that early Christians would have invented this detail involving such a prominent figure, one who was a member of a group opposed to the early Christian movement. If we accept the position that Jesus did actually die on the cross and was actually buried, we must then ask, What happened to Jesus after his death and burial? 2. The Empty Tomb Second, the New Testament Gospels claim that the tomb of Jesus was found empty on the Sunday following his crucifixion. While this claim is not universally affirmed, a recent survey of three decades’ worth of academic literature shows that it was accepted by the majority of scholars who wrote on that subject. The strongest piece of evidence in favor of the historicity of the empty tomb is the report that it was discovered by women. This detail may not strike us as odd, but it is surprising, given the low status of women in the first century. For example, the first-century Jewish historian Josephus claimed that Jewish law expressed the following sentiment regarding the reliability of women: “Let not the testimony of women be admitted, on account of the levity and boldness of their sex.” If the early Christians were inventing narratives to support their own version of events, why not ascribe the discovery of the tomb to witnesses who would have been received as more credible? Reflecting on this piece of evidence, Jewish New Testament scholar Geza Vermes concludes: In the end, when every argument has been considered and weighed, the only conclusion acceptable to the historian must be that the opinions of the orthodox, the liberal sympathizer and the critical agnostic alike—and even perhaps of the disciples themselves—are simply interpretations of the one disconcerting fact: namely that the women who set out to pay their last respects to Jesus found to their consternation, not a body, but an empty tomb. Notice that Vermes is not defending the resurrection; he suggests that it may have been an “interpretation” of the disciples. Nevertheless, he recognizes the strength of the women’s testimony as evidence that the tomb was really found empty. A second factor supporting the historicity of the empty tomb is the fact that just seven weeks after Jesus’s death, the apostles began preaching the resurrection in Jerusalem itself, the very city in which Jesus had been crucified. Had he been lying in a tomb even for this length of time, his features such as hair, teeth, stature, and the wounds of crucifixion would have still been identifiable. It is difficult to see how the fledgling Christian movement could have survived despite the opposition of the ruling authorities if the corpse of Jesus had been interred within walking distance of the temple. Any skeptic who wanted to refute the claims of the apostles could have silenced them by taking a short stroll to the burial place of Jesus. Yet we have no record of anyone claiming that the disciples lied about the empty tomb. How did Christianity grow so rapidly in the very place where Jesus was buried if it could have been falsified so easily? Finally, at the end of his Gospel, Matthew provides what amounts to a dialogue between Christians and Jews regarding the body of Jesus. He states that the Jewish leaders of his day insisted that Jesus’s body had been stolen by the disciples, a claim that apparently was still circulating in the second century, since it is referenced in Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho. But this accusation implies that the Jewish leaders believed that the tomb was actually empty; obviously, they would not have accused the disciples of grave robbery if they believed that Jesus’s body was still in the tomb. For these reasons, most skeptical responses to the resurrection do not simply dismiss the empty tomb as a legend, but try to provide some alternative explanation for it. 3. The Belief of the Apostles Third, the followers of Jesus claimed to have seen him alive after he had been executed. They did not claim to have seen him only once or for a short time; they claimed to have seen him repeatedly over an extended period of several weeks. They also did not merely claim to have had a vision of him but said that they touched him, talked to him, and ate with him. These experiences were not limited to one or two individuals but included large groups of people, including five hundred at one time. What are we to make of these claims? It is nearly universally accepted by historians that the disciples genuinely believed they had encountered the resurrected Jesus, even if they were mistaken in their belief. For instance, Gerd Lüdemann, who denies the historicity of the resurrection, nonetheless states, “It may be taken as historically certain that Peter and the disciples had experiences after Jesus’ death in which Jesus appeared to them as the risen Christ.” The reason for this consensus is the persecution endured by the apostles for their belief in the resurrection. The apostles were repeatedly beaten and imprisoned. We have good historical evidence that James, Peter, and Paul were all executed for their faith, and church tradition maintains that as many as eleven of the twelve apostles were eventually martyred. Given the suffering that the apostles faced, it is difficult to maintain that they knew the resurrection to be a hoax. What would their motivation have been if they knew for certain that they had invented the resurrection stories? As a parallel, it’s reasonable to infer that the terrorists who destroyed the Twin Towers on 9/11 were sincere. If they were certain that Islam was false, why were they willing to kill themselves and thousands of others? What would they have had to gain? Likewise, we can infer that the apostles were sincere. Like the terrorists on 9/11, they would have had little to gain and a great deal to lose by acting upon a known falsehood. But unlike the terrorists, the apostles were in a position to know with complete certainty whether their claims were true. They were claiming to have seen, touched, and conversed with a man who had been executed just days earlier. If they had intentionally invented that claim, they would have known for certain that it was not worth dying for. Muslim author Reza Aslan, who argues that it’s “impossible to know” exactly what happened after Jesus’s death, nonetheless recognizes the significance of these considerations. He writes: One could simply . . . dismiss the resurrection as a lie, and declare belief in the risen Jesus to be the product of a deludable mind. However, there is this nagging fact to consider: one after another of those who claimed to have witnessed the risen Jesus went to their own gruesome deaths refusing to recant their testimony. That is not, in itself, unusual. Many zealous Jews died horribly for refusing to deny their beliefs. But these first followers of Jesus were not being asked to reject matters of faith based on events that took place centuries, if not millennia, before. They were being asked to deny something they themselves personally, directly encountered. When they began to face persecution and even death, why would they continue to affirm what they knew to be a lie? The best explanation is that they truly believed they had seen Jesus risen from the dead, whether or not their belief was correct. 4. The Conversion of Paul Fourth, the conversion of Paul is an important datum reported in the book of Acts and by Paul himself in several of his New Testament letters. He had originally been a vehement opponent of the church and had even consented to the stoning of the first Christian martyr, Stephen. While traveling to Damascus to continue his persecution of the early church, Paul suddenly became a Christian, claiming he had encountered Jesus on the road. Unlike the other apostles, Paul had not been a follower of Jesus during his ministry and was clearly no friend to the early church. Thus, his testimony can be regarded as that of a “hostile witness,” someone who had no incentive to accept Christian testimony about the resurrection unless he himself had an experience that he could unambiguously interpret as confirmation that Jesus was alive. The weight of this piece of evidence is significant. First, Paul’s conversion put him at immediate odds with the Jewish religious leaders in every city to which he traveled. In his second letter to the Corinthians, Paul recounts how he was whipped, beaten, stoned, and shipwrecked as a result of his faith (2 Cor. 11:24–25). Moreover, the physical consequences of his conversion are perhaps even less significant than its spiritual implications. Like many Pharisees, Paul regarded the claims of Jesus’s followers—that their Master was the divine Messiah—to be not only false but utterly blasphemous (see Acts 22:2–5; 1 Tim. 1:13). However, Paul underwent a complete religious transformation in a matter of days. He went from regarding Jesus as a false prophet to believing that Jesus was the unique Son of God, who alone offered salvation to all humanity. This event is psychologically surprising. It would have been as unexpected as Richard Dawkins, the vocal Oxford atheist, suddenly announcing that Jesus appeared to him in his study and that he was now a Christian. While we might think he was crazy, it would be hard to deny that something extraordinary had taken place to bring about such a complete reversal. In fact, the conversion of Paul is even more surprising than the hypothetical conversion of Dawkins, given that Paul embraced not a world religion with billions of followers but a despised, persecuted religious sect with no power and few adherents. Therefore, anyone who doubts the resurrection must provide a plausible account of why Paul underwent such a dramatic conversion in such a short period of time. This article is adapted from Why Believe?: A Reasoned Approach to Christianity by Neil Shenvi.

1. Matthew 6:5–8 And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Prayer was a pillar of Jewish piety. Public prayer, said aloud in the morning, afternoon, and evening, was common. stand and pray in the synagogues. At the set time of prayer, pious Jews would stop what they were doing and pray, some discreetly, but others with pretentious display. Jesus did not condemn all public prayer, as indicated by his own prayers in public (e.g., Matt. 14:19; 15:36). One’s internal motivation is the central concern. shut the door. Though public prayer has value, prayer completely away from public view allows a person (or group) to focus more exclusively on God. heap up empty phrases. Pagans repeated the names of their gods or the same words over and over without thinking (cf. 1 Kings 18:26; Acts 19:34). Jesus is prohibiting mindless, mechanical repetition, not the earnest repetition that flows from the imploring heart (Mark 14:39; 2 Cor. 12:8; cf. Ps. 136; Isa. 6:3). 2. Hebrews 4:16 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Read More Draw near (Gk. proserchomai, “approach, go to, draw near to”) is used consistently in Hebrews to represent a person approaching God (Heb. 7:25; Heb. 10:1, 22; Heb. 11:6; Heb. 12:18, 22; cf. Ex. 16:9; 34:32; Lev. 9:5; Deut. 4:11), which is possible only when one’s sins are forgiven through the sacrificial and intercessory ministry of a high priest (Heb. 7:25; Heb. 10:22). The encouragement to “draw near” to God’s throne implies that Christians have the privilege of a personal relationship with God. Confidence translates Greek parrēsia (“boldness,” “confidence,” “courage,” especially with reference to speaking before someone of great rank or power; cf. Heb. 3:6; Heb. 10:19, 35). It indicates that Christians may come before God and speak plainly and honestly (yet still with appropriate reverence), without fear that they will incur shame or punishment by doing so. throne of grace. God the Father, with Jesus at his right hand (Heb. 8:1; Heb. 12:2; cf. Heb. 1:8), graciously dispenses help from heaven to those who need forgiveness and strength in temptation. 3. 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Read More Rejoice always. Joy in Paul’s letters is a basic mark of the Christian (Rom. 14:17) and a fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22). It is often associated with the firm hope of the Christian (e.g., Rom. 5:2–5; 12:12). Pray without ceasing suggests a mental attitude of prayerfulness, continual personal fellowship with God, and consciousness of being in his presence throughout each day. Christians are to be marked by thanksgiving (Eph. 5:4, 20; Col. 2:7; Col. 3:15, 17; Col. 4:2). This probably refers to all of 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18. 4. Philippians 4:6–7 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Read More Paul echoes Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount (see Matt. 6:25–34) that believers are not to be anxious but are to entrust themselves into the hands of their loving heavenly Father, whose peace will guard them in Christ Jesus. Paul’s use of guard may reflect his own imprisonment or the status of Philippi as a Roman colony with a military garrison. In either case, it is not Roman soldiers who guard believers—it is the peace of God Almighty. Because God is sovereign and in control, Christians can entrust all their difficulties to him, who rules over all creation and who is wise and loving in all his ways (Rom. 8:31–39). An attitude of thanksgiving contributes directly to this inward peace. 5. 1 John 5:14–15 And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him.Read More To ask God according to his will does not mean that, before Christians can pray effectively, they need somehow to discover God’s secret plans for the future (sometimes called his “hidden will” or “will of decree”; cf. Deut. 29:29). Rather, it means they should ask according to what the Bible teaches about God’s will for his people (sometimes called God’s “revealed will” or “will of precept”). If Christians are praying in accordance with what pleases God as found in the teaching of Scripture, then they are praying according to his will (cf. Matt. 6:10; Eph. 5:17). To know that he hears us in whatever we ask is enough, because communion with God is the goal of prayer. we have the requests. Human experience testifies that Christians do not always receive all the things they ask from God, even things that seemingly accord with his revealed will (see note above). This verse must be understood in light of other passages of Scripture which show that praying according to God’s will includes the need to pray in faith (Matt. 21:22; James 1:6), with patience (Luke 18:1–8), in obedience (Ps. 66:18; 1 Pet. 3:12), and in submission to God’s greater wisdom (Luke 22:42; Rom. 8:28; 1 Pet. 4:19). 6. Matthew 6:9–13 Pray then like this: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Read More Jesus gives his disciples an example to follow when praying. The prayer has a beginning invocation and six petitions that give proper priorities. The first three petitions focus on the preeminence of God while the final three focus on personal needs in a community context. Father (Gk. patēr, “father”) would have been “Abba” in Aramaic, the everyday language spoken by Jesus (cf. Mark 14:36; Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). It was the word used by Jewish children for their earthly fathers. However, since the term in both Aramaic and Greek was also used by adults to address their fathers, the claim that “Abba” meant “Daddy” is misleading and runs the risk of irreverence. Nevertheless, the idea of praying to God as “Our Father” conveys the authority, warmth, and intimacy of a loving father’s care, while in heaven reminds believers of God’s sovereign rule over all things. The theme of “heavenly Father” is found throughout the Old Testament (Deut. 14:1; 32:6; Ps. 103:13; Jer. 3:4; 31:9; Hos. 11:1). Jesus’ disciples are invited into the intimacy of God the Son with his Father. The concern of this first petition is that God’s name would be hallowed—that God would be treated with the highest honor and set apart as holy. Christians are called to pray and work for the continual advance of God’s kingdom on earth (the second petition; see note on Matt. 6:9–13). The presence of God’s kingdom in this age refers to the reign of Christ in the hearts and lives of believers, and to the reigning presence of Christ in his body, the church—so that they increasingly reflect his love, obey his laws, honor him, do good for all people, and proclaim the good news of the kingdom. The third petition speaks of God’s will. This means God’s “revealed will” (see note on Eph. 5:17), which involves conduct that is pleasing to him as revealed in Scripture. Just as God’s will is perfectly experienced in heaven, Jesus prays that it will be experienced on earth. The will of God will be expressed in its fullness only when God’s kingdom comes in its final form, when Christ returns in power and great glory (see Matt. 24:30; cf. Rom. 8:18–25; Rev. 20:1–10), but it will increasingly be seen in this age as well (Matt. 13:31–33). The fourth petition focuses on the disciples’ daily bread, a necessity of life which by implication includes all of the believer’s daily physical needs. Forgive us our debts (the fifth petition) does not mean that believers need to ask daily for justification, since believers are justified forever from the moment of initial saving faith (Rom. 5:1, 9; 8:1; 10:10). Rather, this is a prayer for the restoration of personal fellowship with God when fellowship has been hindered by sin (cf. Eph. 4:30). Those who have received such forgiveness are so moved with gratitude toward God that they also eagerly forgive those who are debtors to them. On sin as a “debt” owed to God, see note on Colossians 2:14. This final (sixth) petition addresses the disciples’ battle with sin and evil. Lead us not into temptation. The word translated “temptation” (Gk. peirasmos) can indicate either temptation or testing. The meaning here most likely carries the sense, Allow us to be spared from difficult circumstances that would tempt us to sin (cf. Matt. 26:41). Although God never directly tempts believers (James 1:13), he does sometimes lead them into situations that “test” them (cf. Matt. 4:1; also Job 1; 1 Pet. 1:6; 4:12). In fact, trials and hardships will inevitably come to believers’ lives, and believers should “count it all joy” (James 1:2) when trials come, for they are strengthened by them (James 1:3–4). Nonetheless, believers should never pray to be brought into such situations but should pray to be delivered from them, for hardship and temptation make obedience more difficult and will sometimes result in sin. Believers should pray to be delivered from temptation (cf. Matt. 26:41; Luke 22:40, 46; 2 Pet. 2:9; Rev. 3:10) and led in "paths of righteousness" (Ps. 23:3). deliver us from evil. The phrase translated “evil” (Gk. tou ponērou) can mean either “evil” or “the evil one,” namely, Satan. The best protection from sin and temptation is to turn to God and to depend on his direction. “For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever. Amen” is evidently a later scribal addition, since the most reliable and oldest Greek manuscripts all lack these words, which is the reason why these words are omitted from most modern translations. However, there is nothing theologically incorrect about the wording (cf. 1 Chron. 29:11–13), nor is it inappropriate to include these words in public prayers. 7. Mark 11:24 Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. Read More whatever you ask. God delights to “give good things to those who ask him” (Matt. 7:11) and is capable of granting any prayer, though we must ask with godly motives (James 4:3) and according to God’s will (1 John 5:14). believe that you have received it, and it will be yours. Those who trust God for the right things in the right way can have confidence that God will “supply every need. . . according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:19), knowing that he will work “all things together for good” and will “graciously give us all things” (Rom. 8:28, 32). Some have misused this verse by telling people that if they pray for physical healing (or for some other specific request) and if they just have enough faith, then they can have confidence that God has already done (or will do) whatever they ask. But we must always have the same perspective that Jesus had—that is, confidence in God’s power but also submission to his will: “Father, all things are possible for you. . . Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:36). 8. Ephesians 6:17–18 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints. Read More praying. The weapons for warfare are spiritual because they are rooted in prayer, which is the Christian’s most powerful resource. Prayer is to permeate believers’ lives as a universal practice, as seen by the use of “all” four times in this verse: at all times. . . with all prayer. . . with all perseverance. . . for all the saints. Prayer in the Spirit is a form of worship (John 4:23–24) enabled by the Spirit of God, who intercedes on behalf of the person who prays (Rom. 8:26–27). 9. 1 Timothy 2:1 First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people. Read More supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings. Paul turns to expounding in specific terms what true gospel living (1 Tim. 1:5) should look like. He calls for prayer and he addresses hindrances to prayer (1 Tim. 2:1–15). In describing life that properly emerges from the gospel, Paul first mentions prayer for the salvation of all people. This also leads to a discussion of godly living and appropriate behavior in corporate worship, particularly unity, modesty, and proper submission. Paul’s point is not to list all the ways to pray but to pile up various terms in reference to prayer for their cumulative impact. This is a call for all sorts of prayer for all sorts of people. 10. James 5:16 Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. Read More confess your sins to one another. Sometimes confession in the community is needed before healing can take place, since sin may be the cause of the illness (cf. 1 Cor. 11:29–30). Pray for one another is directed to all the readers of James’s letter and indicates that he did not expect prayer for healing to be limited to the elders (James 5:14). The righteous will have great power in prayer, as God grants their requests. This article is part of the Key Bible Verses series.

It’s a biblical truth that habits shape your life. Perhaps you’re wondering, “where does God tell us that in the Bible?” That idea comes from Galatians 6. But God doesn’t use the word “habits.” He uses the metaphor of seeds. Why? In biblical times, people lived in an agrarian society. Nothing was manufactured or cranked out in fast-food joints. Food had to be grown one ingredient at a time. People’s lives and economy were based largely on farming. People back then would understand the concept of planting seeds and harvesting crops, so here’s what God inspired Paul to write: “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:7–9). For us non-agrarians, let’s establish some definitions. ▪ To “sow” means to plant—to put seed in the ground. ▪ To “reap” means to gather the fruit—the result of the seed planted. So the passage starts, “Do not be deceived.” The idea for us readers is, don’t be led astray. Don’t be fooled; don’t be stupid. It continues, “God cannot be mocked.” The Greek word translated “mocked” means to snub or thumb your nose at someone. You can do that to a person, but not to God. Don’t be deceived, God can’t be mocked. You might fool a lot of people, but you’re not going to fool God. The next words are, “A man reaps what he sows.” That’s what we need to understand and not be foolish about. But what does that mean? ▪ You will harvest what you plant. ▪ You will get out what you put in. ▪ Your outcomes will be determined by your inputs. ▪ The results of your life will be based on the decisions you make, the habits you stake, and the habits you break. Paul gives us a spiritual example when he talks about the differences between sowing to the flesh and sowing to the Spirit. The flesh refers to our sinful nature. Some sow (or plant seeds) to the flesh, meaning they do what’s wrong, ungodly, and sinful. The result? They reap (or harvest) destruction. Bad decisions lead to bad consequences. Others sow (or plant seeds) to the Spirit, meaning they allow themselves to be led and empowered by the Holy Spirit, so they do what honors God. The result? They reap (or harvest) eternal life. So if you live your life with and for God, that’s what you’re going to get out of it. Not just now but (especially) eternally. If you live your life for yourself, ignoring God and apart from him, that’s what you’re going to get out of it. Not just now but (especially) eternally. But it’s not just true spiritually and eternally. This is the way all of life works. We reap what we sow. There’s a natural law at work in this idea of planting and harvesting. It’s similar to, say, the concept of gravity. It’s just how the world works. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to agree with it. Gravity will work for you, and on you, the same way it works with everyone. If you jump, you will go up. Then gravity will bring you down. We say people get “tripped up,” but that’s not true. People always trip down. Gravity is a natural law. In the same way, God tells us there is a natural law of sowing and reaping. If you plant apple seeds, you get apple trees. If you plant orange seeds, don’t be deceived and expect apples. You can picture a farmer out in his fields: Wait. What’s this? I wanted apples. Why did I get oranges? It’s because you planted orange seeds! If you plant corn, you’re going to reap corn. Don’t plant corn if you want pineapples. That would be stupid. When you put a certain type of seed in the ground, you get a harvest that corresponds with the seed you planted. Every. Single. Time. You reap what you sow. True in agriculture. True in life. If you plant good habits, you’ll get good outcomes. If you plant bad habits, don’t be deceived and expect good outcomes. If you find yourself asking, Wait. What’s this? I didn’t want this. Why is this happening? Understand that what you’re getting is because that’s what you planted. You fooled yourself into thinking you could plant one thing and reap another. It sounds crazy that someone might do that, but it happens all the time. A guy sows seeds of lust. He checks out girls at the gym, girls at his office, girls online. But he still expects to have a good marriage. Then, when his marriage struggles, he’s confused. Wait. What’s this? It’s what you planted. A woman sows seeds of criticism and negativity but expects good friends. As a result, people avoid her. She’s lonely. She thinks, Wait. What’s this? I guess I have bad friends. No. It’s what you planted. A recent college graduate sows seeds of showing up late for work and giving a halfhearted effort but expects a promotion. When someone else is given the promotion, the young adult thinks, Wait. What’s this? Man, my boss isn’t fair! No. It’s what you planted. Some dude eats anything he wants. Praise the Lord and pass the Doritos! He doesn’t exercise. He drinks a six-pack on Friday to celebrate that it’s Friday. He drinks another on Saturday because, hey, it’s Saturday. And he drinks another six-pack on Sunday because it’s the last day of the weekend. He ends up thirty-five pounds overweight in his forties and with cirrhosis in his fifties. Hey! What’s this? This isn’t fair! Is God punishing me for something I did when I was a kid? No; it’s not a punishment, it’s a harvest. You are reaping what you’ve sown. When people mess up their marriages, friendships, or careers, they get upset and often blame God. Ummm, no. God didn’t do this to you. You did this to you. If you plant good habits, you’ll get good outcomes. If you plant bad habits, don’t expect good outcomes. You reap what you sow. If you don’t like what you’re reaping, change what you’re sowing. If you don’t like the harvest, change the seed. Here’s a divine assignment: Take an honest, prayerful look at the disappointing parts of your life. Ask God to help you search your heart. Then pinpoint the habits that have led to each aspect of your life that isn’t what you want. Avoid having a victim mentality or blaming others. That will not help. Take responsibility by identifying the habits you’ve sown that have led to your harvest. Then decide on a type of seed you will consistently plant to get a better harvest. If you don’t like what you’re reaping, change what you’re sowing. Because you reap what you sow. Adapted from The Power to Change: Mastering the Habits That Matter Most by Craig Groeschel.

This Is Our Father’s World God is committed to the earth and has given humans the responsibility to care for it. This biblical truth is foundational from the opening chapter of the Bible. But what does this look like and how do we express it? Our relationship with the environment is an issue of growing concern, especially among the young, and a Christian voice, informed more by theology than by politics and secular ideologies, needs to be heard. Until we have a clearly articulated theology of the earth, our confusions will reverberate within our siloed echo chambers, and the wider world will not hear that we have something of great relevance and importance to say. Traps abound as we seek to articulate our biblical commitments. We do not want to end up worshipping the environment and falling into pantheism. We do not want to say that only spiritual realities matter and fall into dualism. We do not want to view the earth as transient and of fleeting importance—the Bible talks of its renewal. We do not want to be pragmatic and self-serving with the world’s resources. Like everyone else, we want to protect the planet for our grandchildren, but even this is not our primary motivation. As Christians, we recognize that the world was created neither for us nor for our grandchildren—it was created to bring glory to its creator. Anything less is idolatry. We are confused. We affirm that this world is our home for which we were created. We appreciate its beauty and utility, yet we also see unfathomable misery and pain. We are not home yet. We live with a now/not yet tension as we await the renewal of all things. The Bible affirms the redemption of all that is under the curse of the effects of sin. This includes the redemption of individual humans, but it goes beyond us. Just as Adam, the firstborn of creation, brought enslavement to all of creation through his fall into sin, so too the final Adam, the firstborn from among the dead, brings liberation and reconciliation to the breadth of creation, whether on earth or in heaven (Col. 1:18–20). God’s scope for redemption is cosmic. Sin’s Impact We need to be careful here. The impact of sin on the natural order is different from that on humans. Trees are marred by the fall. They succumb to diseases and to deforestation, and their days are finite. But they are not culpable for rebellion against their creator. There is a significant difference between the redemption of trees and of humans. There is no call for the trees to repent and believe in the gospel. Yet their liberation from the curse is part of God’s plan, and to a degree, part of our redemption. Bodies need the environment to survive. It’s true now and it will be true when we have received our resurrected bodies. It’s all integrated. God declares all of creation to be very good (Gen. 1:31), including trees. The return of Jesus will usher in a new heaven and a new earth (Rev. 21:1), which means the renewal of the cosmos (not its replacement), and this includes trees. I for one hope there will be fruit at the marriage supper of the lamb. We need to get on board with this and to live in the light of what is coming. Christian cries for ecological awareness need to be informed by theological convictions that are firmly grounded in the Bible, which has much to say on the issue. Land is an important character in the Bible. It nourishes (Lev. 26:4), devours its inhabitants (Num. 13:32), and mourns (Jer. 23:10). It can be remembered (Lev. 26:42), abandoned (Lev. 26:43), defiled (Lev. 18:25, 27; Deut. 21:23), cleansed (Deut. 32:43), subdued (Josh. 18:10), cursed (Deut. 29:27; Jer. 44:22) and polluted (Jer. 3:1). It groans, awaiting its renewal (Rom. 8:22). In the Old Testament, God’s relationship with his people is within the context of a promised land. Adam and Eve are given a garden, a land, where they are to exercise dominion over all that God has made (Gen. 1:28). They are warned against disobedience, for it is not their garden, they are but stewards of it. Disobedience will result in expulsion from the garden (Gen. 3:24). As the Old Testament continues, the Promised Land of Israel is likened to the Garden of Eden (Ezek. 36:35; Joel 2:3), and as in Eden, disobedience continues. In response to this, God chooses one man, Abram, that his descendants might be a corporate Adam. Abram’s descendants are given the promise of a land (Gen. 12:1–3). In the same way that Eden was a microcosm of God’s blessings to the whole earth, so too will be the case for Israel. They will be God’s people in God’s place from which blessings will flow to the whole earth. If they are obedient to God, he will make them a nation of priests through whom blessings will flow to the whole earth (Ex. 19:5–6). The requirement for Israel is the same as it was in Eden: obedience. Blessing in the land (and from the land) is contingent on the stewards of the land being obedient to the owner of land. The story of Israel, however, is a story of disobedience, that results in expulsion from the land (e.g. Deut. 4:25–27; Lev. 18:24–30; 20:22). It is the story of Adam and the garden revisited which finds a climax in the exile to Babylon where the people of God lay down and wept for Zion (Ps. 137:1–4). Expulsion was not the cause of this weeping; disobedience was. The conditions of the covenant are clear. Obedience. As the pages of the Old Testament come to a close, the question resounds, Can an obedient remnant be found that God’s people might find blessing in God’s land and through this be a blessing to all the earth? As the New Testament opens, we meet an enigmatic figure whose name is John. He stands in the prophetic tradition of the denunciation of Israel for its disobedience. His language is dramatic. He declares judgment upon Israel as a baptism of fire (Matt. 3:11). The axe is poised at the root of the tree (Matt. 3:10). But this judgment is not without hope, for within the narrative we finally meet the perfectly faithful remnant of Israel: Jesus Christ. As the story unfolds, we see that Jesus’s obedience leads to a substitutionary atonement that brings satisfaction for the sins of Israel’s disobedience. He takes the curse of the fall upon himself. In so doing, Israel is reborn in the resurrection. No longer does this new Israel have geographical limitations. God is true to his word, and obedience results in blessings flowing to the nations. The idea of a Holy Land is replaced by a Holy Earth. God sends the gift of his Spirit who fills the earth, starting from Jerusalem (Acts 1:8). The effects of the curse of the fall are reversed. The hope of the renewal of all things (yes, even the trees) is grounded in the obedience of this faithful Israelite. We’re not home yet, but our future is assured as we await the new heavens and new earth (Isa. 65:17 cf. Rev. 21:1). Redemption and Renewal If we are Christians, Jesus’s story is our story. We have union with him in his work of redemption and renewal. It is not our job to redeem creation. That is beyond our competence, whether through legislation or activism or even in writing this article. The world already has a messiah. But it is our responsibility to live in the light of what Jesus has done and to recognize God’s commitment to the earth. We need great wisdom when we think about a theology of the land. We are not pantheists or pragmatists. We remember that “the Earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof” (Ps. 24:1). God is committed to the earth. This is not surprising for not only did he create its beauty, but he has also redeemed its ugliness. He continues to entrust us, the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve, with the responsibility of being stewards of that which does not belong to us. The future hope of the heavens and the earth is assured, and we await the final consummation. But in the meantime, as those around us are also very concerned about the future of the planet upon which we live, we have a message to declare. Our story does not end in annihilation and destruction but in restoration grounded in resurrection. We are singing from a different song sheet, not in a minor key, but in a triumphant key that points with certain hope to the one who is both the creator and the redeemer of all. If we are Christians, Jesus’s story is our story. We have union with him in his work of redemption and renewal. Ian K. Smith is the author of Not Home Yet: How the Renewal of the Earth Fits into God's Plan for the World