A devotional I wrote for Compassion International:

After I returned from another frustrating men’s ministry event my wife, Emily, told me “You need to quit.”

“Pardon?”

“You need to quit that ministry. You’re not using your gifts. You hate it. It’s killing you. You need to quit.”

I’d been running the men’s ministry at our previous church for close to a year. I wanted to lead a ministry that was about teaching men; instead, I was running glorified play dates for men. My wheels were spinning, but I was sure I could change things. I was too proud to admit I was wrong.

Emily hit a nerve, and my reaction lacked grace. After a conversation full of ridiculous rationalizations — my pride on full display — I agreed to quit.

In considering the Bible’s repeated commands to love one another, I’ve been reminded that love goes beyond acts of kindness and words of positive affirmation, as important as those are. In confronting me, my wife revealed an important truth: Love confronts — and love accepts correction.

As Christians, if we truly love one another as Jesus says we ought, then we need to be willing to pursue loving confrontation and be willing to humbly accept correction.

I know that for many of us, this is an uncomfortable — even terrifying — idea. These kinds of conversations require us to be vulnerable. But regardless of age, stage, position or pay grade, none of us is exempt from the need to be confronted and accept correction.

In reading the Scriptures, I am continually challenged by God’s great love and His willingness to confront His people — often with very harsh words (Jeremiah 2:20; Galatians 3:1; Revelation 2–3). If God is willing, should we do likewise? If God is directing you to speak to someone, will you speak?

Love is costly. It requires vulnerability and humility. But in the end, it will always be worth it.

And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister. —1 John 4:21, NIV

Prayer: Father, help us to show true love to one another — to not only speak words of affirmation and encouragement, but, in love, be willing to have hard conversations. Let our words be gracious and our hearts be humble, and let our love prove our testimony true.

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth.”—Acts 1:8

Emily and I came to faith around the same time a number of voices were loudly calling for a drastic shift in missions focus—an end to what some viewed as a form of “American colonialism.” While called for a greater (and necessary) emphasis on reaching the lost here at home, others seemed to slowly lose any impetus to share the gospel altogether. What happened?

I wonder if it’s that they lost sight of the Great Commission. They lost the mission of the church—and when that happened, they ceased to be the church altogether.

This is one of the many things I loved about TGC’s Missions Pre-Conference—it’s strong emphasis on making a concerted effort to making disciples of all nations. It’s a vision we need to recapture, a point R.C. Sproul makes well in a story he shares in his commentary on Acts:

I had lunch with an extraordinary man who ministers in the Sudan. As we were eating, he showed me a picture of his family, and in it the children were carrying guns. When I asked him about that, he explained that they carry guns when they go to church because the church had been bombed ten times by Muslims. This man is on the front line of mission work every day. That is what we need—to be in touch with people like that. We are to live by this same Great Commission. It is our responsibility to make sure that Christ’s kingdom is being witnessed to throughout the world. We are called to be a missionary church.

R.C. Sproul, Acts (Crossway, 2010—Westminster Books | Amazon | Ligonier)

“We are called to be a missionary church,” Sproul says. Locally and globally, we are to be intentional about the spread of the gospel, hunting for those whom God has called to salvation and trusting in the God who is sovereign over the whole endeavour to bring it to completion.

And then, when the gospel is proclaimed throughout the whole world, the end will come (Matt 24:14).

Yesterday afternoon two bombs went off near the finish line of the Boston Marathon. Dozens were injured and at least three people were killed—including an eight-year-old boy.

When we learned of the event at work, we were shocked. Two of my co-workers were in Boston just a few days prior to this event. One co-worker had a family member running in the Boston Marathon that day.

For a moment there was silence.

Sometimes that’s the best response to tragedy.

When the silence ends, it’s tempting to start asking questions:

Who did this? How do we respond? What should we do now?

As of this writing, no one has claimed responsibility for the bombing. Someone may eventually claim responsibility. Some may try to use the event as an opportunity to push a particular agenda.

That includes Christians who like to say things like “This is God’s judgment on America’s sin.”

If there’s any “agenda” for Christians to put forward, maybe it’s this:

There will be a day when eight-year-olds won’t die in explosions. There will be a day when people won’t set off bombs in America or any nation in the world.

There will be a day when we don’t have to wonder “why”—and a day when all our tears will be wiped away.

But today’s not that day.

Today we still live in a world where evil exists; where sin runs rampant and people die.

Christian, don’t offer answers right now. Weep with those who weep. Mourn with those who mourn.

But don’t forget the promise of the one who wipes away every tear from every eye and has promised, “Surely, I am coming soon!”

And whenever we are confronted with evil like the events in Boston, our prayer should be the same as the Apostle John’s:

Come, Lord Jesus.

This past week, Christians and pro-life advocates took to social media to compel the mainstream media to cover the Kermit Gosnell trial, an abortionist on trial for eight counts of murder, including seven babies who he allegedly killed after their birth.

Joe Carter shares nine things you need to know over at TGC and Trevin Wax shares eight reasons he believes for the cause of the media blackout, so I don’t want to retread that ground.

The case is dark; it’s another evidence of the evil running rampant within the human heart. 

There is no avoiding this fact. Despite what pro-choice advocates say about abortion, it’s evil, plain and simple. We can’t overlook this and Christians dare not. The Bible is too clear on the dignity of human life (beginning with Genesis 1:26-27) and God demonstrates great care for the defenseless and marginalized.

There are few as defenseless as babies, especially those in the womb.

Christians are right to be outraged when it comes to our culture’s flippant attitude toward children in general and abortion in specific. Here in Canada, we currently have no legal restrictions on abortion (it’s regulated by the Canada Health Act). The history of abortion law in Canada is long, complicated—and frankly there are no easy answers for how to properly restrict or allow access (depending on your perspective).

In other words, the situation is pretty much the same as in America.

So what is it about media silence surrounding the Gosnell case that has Christians in particular up in arms? It’s not just that it confronts us once again with the horror of abortion, which it does that quite well.

The Gosnell trial proves the Bible’s testimony true—and our culture desperately wants to ignore it.

The Bible is emphatic that the human heart—our will and desire—is bent toward evil. We’re told our thoughts are only evil continually (Gen. 6:5; 8:20). We deceive ourselves continually (Jer. 17:9), calling evil “good” and good “evil” (to which God says “Woe to those who do” in Isa. 5:20).

The testimony of Romans 1 is true:

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.… they exchanged the truth about God for a lie… (Rom. 1:18, 25)

But how can Christians faithfully respond? Here are three ways:

1. Be charitable.

There’s part of us that wants to paint pro-choice advocates as being like Gosnell. Don’t do that. Remember, while some do so by virtue of our culture’s radical individualism, many supporters of abortion are moved to do so out of a sense of compassion for women in very difficult circumstances. It’s why the arguments against restricting abortion typically invoke rape victims and call back to the days of backroom abortions. Simply, they’re advocating for the compassionate option within their own worldview.

2. Know your facts.

Christians need to know the facts surrounding abortion in North America (or wherever we live). Do your research. Read good books (two I recommend are Innocent Blood and Stand for Life, both by John Ensor). As much as you’re able, know what you’re standing up against—and what you’re standing up for. And while you’re at it, remind people that children are not a burden.

3. Speak the truth in love.

Defend human dignity and human life, make it clear that abortion is a heinous evil—but remember, your best arguments aren’t going to win the day. The only thing that will truly change a person’s heart is the Holy Spirit bringing life from death through the proclaimed gospel of Jesus Christ.

Though the sin is great, it’s not so great the gospel can’t overcome it. On the cross, Jesus pays the penalty for the sin of abortion—and in His grace, both the abortionist and the patient can be made new in Christ. Both can be redeemed. Both can be reconciled and restored. Though the consequences remain, the stain of sin will be removed.

Our mission—regardless of our zeal for the cause—is to serve as ambassadors of Christ; to plead with the lost to be reconciled to Christ. 

The Gosnell trial may help further the ministry of reconciliation—will you seize the opportunity?

Our small group is just getting started on a witnessing workshop designed to help us develop a lifestyle of personal evangelism. This is really important since so many of us—especially me—kind of stink at this.

One of the things many of us fear is getting the gospel wrong: saying the wrong thing that will somehow condemn a person to hell who otherwise would have believed. What our fears often reveal is a belief that the gospel’s effectiveness relies on us.

But, D.A. Carson explains in Jesus the Son of God, the idea that what we do makes or breaks the gospel may be what does the most damage to our evangelistic efforts:

…if you don’t believe that the gospel is the good news of God’s action – the Father electing, the Son dying, the Spirit drawing – that conversion is only our response to God’s giving us the grace-gifts of repentance and faith, and that evangelism is our simple, faithful, prayerful telling of this good news, then you will actually damage the evangelistic mission of the church by making false converts. If you think that the gospel is all about what we can do, that the practice of it is optional, and that conversion is simply something that anyone can choose at any time, then I’m concerned that you’ll think of evangelism as nothing more than a sales job where the prospect is to be won over to sign on the dotted line by praying a prayer, followed by an assurance that he is the proud owner of salvation. (Kindle location 1148)

Evangelism is not a sales pitch, any more than we are responsible for the outcome of our message. The Triune God is responsible for the outcome—and we are called to simply, faithfully, prayerfully share the news.

Matthew 18:15-17a is one of the most important passages in the Bible on the matter of church discipline. It’s also one of the most abused passages in all of Scripture (outside “Judge not” in Matt. 7:1). The passage reads as follows:

If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church.

While there’s a great deal that could be said about this passage, but there are a few important elements to note:

1. The passage deals explicitly with personal sin. According to this passage, personal sin is to be dealt with personally—”between you and him alone,” Jesus says (v. 15). The big idea here is that if you can resolve something quickly, without rumors starting to swirl, then do it. “You will have gained your brother,” Jesus says. In other words, the whole point is reconciliation.

2. Personal sin sometimes requires mediators. When you can’t get something resolved one-on-one, you need to bring in some help; “take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses” (v. 16). Personal issues should never devolve into a nasty game of one person’s word against another’s. Having someone else work with us to settle a dispute is often the thing we need to actually get it resolved.

3. Unrepentant sin is a matter for your community. There’s not really such a thing as “personal, private business” within the church—specifically our local congregations. Our sin affects everybody in our local church, whether we admit it or not, because we are all responsible to (and for) one another.

However not every sin falls into the Matt. 18 model.

Corporate sins, public sins, are handled differently. We see numerous examples throughout Scripture—Paul publicly rebukes Peter for falling back into law-keeping and causing confusion among the gentile believers and he rebukes the Corinthian church for, well, pretty much everything. Jesus rebukes the Laodiceans for being lukewarm, the Ephesians for abandoning their first love and the church at Sardis for being dead, although they had the appearance of life.

Over and over again, we see public sin being confronted publicly.

In these cases they weren’t handling things in the same fashion as you would personal sin. There were no mediators, no private approaches that we’re aware of—it’s just a loud, clear “repent!”

But something that’s important to note here, too:

The whole point of dealing with public sin publicly is reconciliation.

Yesterday Tim Challies publicly pleaded with Christians to stop giving airtime to “discernment bloggers/watchbloggers.” In recent weeks, he’s come under heavy criticism, particularly from those impacted by the ongoing issues within Sovereign Grace Ministries. His comments, naturally, caused even more insanity (as evidenced by the comments section).

While I’m not going to get into the particular issues surrounding Sovereign Grace, and I want to respect the feelings of those impacted, the direction I’m seeing in all of this (particularly in the way people went after Tim and Cruciform Press) should be cause for concern.

When we scour the Internet looking for “dirt” or something we can spin to continue to feed our injuries… the Bible has a name for that: malice.

Malice is a desire to do evil against another, a desire that grows out of bitterness. For a Christian to harbor bitterness, to let it fester and grow into malice—to begin intentionally plotting evil against others—that should cause us great concern as we look at ourselves.

Why? Because it’s an indication of our heart—it’s a warning that not all is right in our standing before God, even that our profession of faith may be a lie (see Acts 8:21-23; Rom. 3:10-14).

Simply, bitterness is incompatible with Christian character—and Paul commands us to “put it away” in Ephesians 4:31.

Before it’s too late.

When we look at the harsh words we see in Scripture, even the fiercest rebukes that come to God’s people—they’re motivated by a desire for one thing:

Reconciliation. 

That’s the point of all biblical confrontation. It’s why we see in Matthew’s gospel, immediately following Jesus’ commands surrounding personal sin the parable of unforgiving servant (Matt. 18-21-35). It’s why we see Jesus give the Ephesians and Laodiceans and the rest of the seven churches an opportunity to repent. It’s why Paul says he handed Hymenaeus and Alexander “over to Satan”—that they might learn not to blaspheme and would repent (1 Tim. 1:20).

But bitterness is the enemy of reconciliation.

If you find yourself reading a particularly critical blog, ask yourself: is the goal of this rebuke to see people reconciled to Christ and/or to one another? Does it create a desire for promote forgiveness?

Does it feed bitterness—or choke it out?

Don’t you want to be a better person?

Not really.

What about a nicer one?

Nope.

There’s nothing wrong with niceness—it’s just I’d rather be godly.

C.S. Lewis explains it well:

“Niceness”—wholesome, integrated personality—is an excellent thing. We must try by every medical, educational, economic, and political means in our power to produce a world where as many people as possible grow up “nice”; just as we must try to produce a world where all have plenty to eat. But we must not suppose that even if we succeeded in making everyone nice we should have saved their souls. A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world—and might even be more difficult to save. (Mere Christianity, Kindle location 2642)

Niceness isn’t a bad thing; as Lewis says, it’s an “excellent thing.” But being a nice person is a poor substitute for being a godly one.

If I had to choose between the two, I’ll choose the latter every time.

It’s an old struggle: how do we balance “grace” and “works”?

We have a really hard time with this—we see (complementary) books like Romans and James as being opposed to one another.  We accuse any emphasis on works as an abandonment of justification by faith—until we get concerned that “too much” of an emphasis on grace will lead to licentious living.

But we do need to strike an appropriate balance because we may be doing our cause more harm than good. C.S. Lewis explains the issue well in Mere Christianity:

If conversion to Christianity makes no improvement in a man’s outward actions—if he continues to be just as snobbish or spiteful or envious or ambitious as he was before—then I think we must suspect that his ‘conversion’ was largely imaginary; and after one’s original conversion, every time one thinks one has made an advance, that is the test to apply. Fine feelings, new insights, greater interest in ‘religion’ mean nothing unless they make our actual behaviour better; just as in an illness ‘feeling better’ is not much good if the thermometer shows that your temperature is still going up. In that sense the outer world is quite right to judge Christianity by its results. Christ told us to judge by results. A tree is known by its fruit; or, as we say, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. When we Christians behave badly, or fail to behave well, we are making Christianity unbelievable to the outside world. The war-time posters told us that Careless Talk costs Lives. It is equally true that Careless Lives cost Talk. Our careless lives set the outer world talking; and we give them grounds for talking in a way that throws doubt on the truth of Christianity itself. (Kindle location 2542)

We are saved by grace alone, but not a faith that is alone. Jesus alone is our righteousness—but we will be known by our fruit. If we say we’re following Jesus, but our lives show virtually no evidence that we’re living in obedience to him… well, it might speak more clearly about what’s actually going on in our hearts than our finest preaching. “Careless lives cost Talk.”