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.”

With the United States Supreme Court considering whether or not to legalize same-sex marriage and the numerous inflammatory comments in the media (and from celebrities) surrounding those who advocate for the traditional view of marriage, it’s easy for the Christian to be discouraged.

Or worse, to give in to the pressure and say, “Well, this is the way the world is, so we may as well go along with it.”

But, weary brothers and sisters, this is not the way to go.

For all our talk of living in a pluralistic culture, we’re anything but. The new “tolerance” seeks to eradicate dissension from the party line (Denny Burk illustrates this well here). But a healthy society—one where genuine pluralism and exchange of ideas exists—requires a strong voice, one loyal to his or her convictions. D.A. Carson explains it well:

Genuine pluralism within the broader culture is facilitated when there is a strong Christian voice loyal to the Scriptures – as well as strong Muslim voices, skeptical voices, Buddhist voices, atheistic voices, and so forth. Genuine pluralism within the broader culture is not fostered when in the name of tolerance none of the voices can say that any of the others is wrong, and when this stance is the only ultimate virtue.

Because the new tolerance, an ostensibly value-free tolerance, has become the dominant religion among media leaders, this vision is constantly reinforced. For instance, the media may present popes such as John Paul II and Benedict XVI in a positive light, provided these popes are restricting themselves to ceremony or world poverty, but if they show how their beliefs impinge on social issues such as premarital and extramarital sex, abortion, homosexuality, and euthanasia, then they must be bigoted, out of date, slightly bizarre, even dangerous, and certainly intolerant.

D.A. Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance (Kindle location 407)

If being loyal to your faith is intolerant, be willing to be labeled intolerant—a healthy culture won’t survive without men and women who are committed to their beliefs, regardless of the consequences. The pressure to be silent is great, but the culture surrounding us needs a strong, loyal Christian voice more than it needs us to go with the flow.

Yesterday the news broke that Rob Bell, former pastor and bestselling author, is in favor of same sex marriage.

While not surprising in the least (when considering the trajectory of his teaching), it is disappointing, if for no other reason than the stance is couched in the language of Jesus’ “revolutionary message.”

But there’s nothing all that revolutionary about saying “this is the world that we are living in and we need to affirm people wherever they are.”

This is not a post about Rob Bell, nor is it one about same sex marriage.

This is about the gospel.

The gospel really is revolutionary.

In the gospel, all have equal value, regardless of ethnicity, social status or gender (Gal. 3:28); men and women are made new (2 Cor. 5:17) and are declared “sons” of God—beloved children of their Creator (Gal. 3:26).

We are freed from the passions of the flesh and bondage to the “god of this world” (Eph. 2:3; 2 Cor. 4:4). We are God’s workmanship, “created in Christ Jesus for good works,which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10). We are heralds, ambassadors of Christ (2 Cor. 5:20), called to declare the glorious good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the hope that extends from it, and the promise of a world renewed and restored for God’s glory that is to come.

This—not affirming what the world affirms—is what is compelling and revolutionary. It’s not honest, compassionate or compelling to say, “I agree—you’re super just the way you are” when someone’s been sold a false bill of goods.

Especially if you know the real thing is so much better.

But many have forgotten this. “This is the world we live in” after all, and the message of the gospel, apparently, doesn’t cut it anymore.

We don’t want to be controversial because we’d be seen as being “against” people. And controversy gets kind of boring after a while, anyway. But we also, it seems, don’t really want to do the hard work of truly loving them by leading them to the source of their greatest good—Jesus Christ. So instead, we settle for small, meaningless, impotent, pretend “gods” who resemble Jesus in name, but have none of the power or majesty.

Controversy is boring… but so is taking a bold stance to be for whatever the world is for. 

The gospel—the real gospel—is so much better. Let’s be about that, shall we?

“How do I help people engage in worship?”

I know of few church leaders for whom this isn’t a concern on some level. Whether we’re small group leaders, playing in the praise band or the senior leaders, we all want to see the men and women in our churches increasingly engaged in worship (in every sense of the word).

So… how do we do that?

Is it through turning up the speakers? Singing songs with lots of participation, clapping and suggested actions in the lyrics?

D.A. Carson offers a pretty different suggestion in his recently released book, Jesus the Son of God: A Christological Title Often Overlooked, Sometimes Misunderstood, and Currently Disputed:

We increase the intensity, joy, and fidelity of our worship, not by including the verb “to worship” in every second line in our so-called “worship songs,” but by knowing more about God, and bringing our adoration to him, as he is.

Insofar as our conceptions of him diverge from what he has disclosed of himself, so far are we worshiping a false god, which is normally called idolatry. To study hard what holy Scripture says about the Son of God, who has most comprehensively revealed his heavenly Father, is to know more about God, and thus to begin to ground our worship in reality rather than slogans. (Kindle location 1204)

Carson’s point is simple: better worship requires better theology.

It seems counterintuitive. Indeed, some have suggested it’s simplicity, rather than complexity, that increases the intensity of worship. You often see this argument used in connection with battles over hymns in modern worship services.

The language is unfamiliar (unless the lyrics have been updated) and the theology expressed is too complex for the average Christian, or so go some arguments (never mind that the audience for many of the hymns we still widely sing today was illiterate farmers).

True, many (but certainly not all) of the hymns are anything but simple. But, then, neither are many of the preeminent examples of songs of worship found in the Psalms and throughout the rest of Scripture. They communicate profoundly deep—and often complex—truths about God.

At the risk of overstating, I would suggest the objection many have today about complexity in worship is not because “simple” is better. It’s that we are too ill-equipped to handle much more than the most basic truths of Scripture.

While we must always be careful that we don’t succumb to sinful intellectual elitism, we can’t ignore the way God appears to have wired the Christian faith—increased knowledge and understanding of God leads to increased worship.

Depth begets awe.

This is (at least in part) the desire that is to fuel our disciple-making, as Paul’s prayer for the Colossians makes clear. Maybe it should be our prayer, too:

And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share inthe inheritance of the saints in light. (Col 1:9-12)

(To learn more about this book, visit Westminster Books or Amazon and look for my review here soon.)

The hard truth is that if we fail to take time to think deeply about the unsearchable, wonderful, endless depths of the Word of God—even the difficult passages—it’s like turning off a tap or closing a door. We cut ourselves off from unique opportunities, robbing ourselves of rich possibilities including a deeper love for God, a more profound transformation of our hearts and minds, a more thorough shaping of our character, and a richer filling of our spirits. When Jude commands us to “build yourselves up in your most holy faith,” he’s talking about growing strong in our understanding—and this is impossible without faithful, consistent time in the Bible.

Building ourselves up in the faith, which means (at least in part) growing strong doctrinally, requires us to hold on to the Bible. The absence of a consistent devotional life is not necessarily a mark of a reprobate, but if you’re not engaging the Scriptures on a fairly consistent basis, you should take seriously the possibility that there is something fundamentally wrong with your walk.

Adapted from Contend: Defending the Faith in a Fallen World, pp. 73-74
Available from: Cruciform Press | Westminster Books | Amazon