Should We Drop the Confession of Sin (and Buy a Hazer)?

Our church’s worship could be called liturgical. We issue a call to worship, join in a confession, and hear the words of assurance. We respond to each of these elements with praise, gratitude or dedication, in words that are both spoken and sung. Then, when we hear the Scripture read, we give thanks to God.

Photo by Israel Torres on Pexels.com

People are not crowding into our building to say, “Thanks be to God!” or to confess their sins. It is possible that we would draw more people if we’d drop the confession of sin and buy a haze machine instead. (Though I can imagine future church members, say twenty years from now, saying, “Can you believe we used to think that was cool?”) We’ll forego the haze machine for now, but we will keep the confession, which in our liturgy is not just a confession of sin, but a confession of need, and especially a confession of Jesus as Lord.

Photo by Caleb Oquendo on Pexels.com

Nearly everyone agrees that confession of sin is a biblical imperative. So, why is it missing from most evangelical church services—the ecclesial tradition that is most emphatic in its insistence on being biblical? I was in a mainline church recently where we were called on to confess our sins, but in the last big evangelical gathering I was at, a confession of sin would have felt out of place. Just as we were being lifted up on wave after wave of music and image, a confession would have brought us down.

If we don’t give confession a place in our corporate worship, will we give it a place in our private lives? I’m not sure that we do. Yet the biblical injunction is as plain as day: “Confess your sins to one another” (James 5:16). James does not say, “Confess your sins to a therapist,” or even, “Confess your sins to a religious professional.” He says, “Confess your sins to one another.”

Why would anyone do that? They wouldn’t … unless they really wanted to get free of their sins. I am only going to confess my sins to someone if I am desperate to escape them.

But isn’t it enough to confess my sin to God? How does it help to confess my sin to someone else? It’s not like I don’t know what my sin is. In King David’s words, “My sin is always before me.”

Confession helps in more than one way. For example, though I think I know what my sin is, I might be mistaken. I may think that my weakness is sin. (It is not.) I might classify my failure as sin. (It is not.) I might believe that my feelings are a sin. (They are not.) What my sin really is, I may not see at all.

I washed windows at our house this week. We have two picture windows in our living room, one facing east and the other, larger one, facing south. In late morning (which was when I was working on them) the sun shines on both windows. On a bright, clear day (like this past Monday) it can be almost blinding.

I spent a long time making that east window just so, but when I went inside, I could see all kinds of streaks and smudges that were completely invisible from the outside. When I was finished with both windows, my wife came into the room and pointed out fresh spots that needed cleaning, one after another, after another, until I finally asked her to stop looking. The windows were good enough. (Besides, I knew that in another hour, when the sun had westered a little more, they would look spotless.)

What spots and smudges I could see depended on the direction the light was shining and on the direction from which I was looking. It is that way with sin. From within my own body, looking out of my own eyes, I can appear spotless—or at least “good enough.” But I do not see myself as I really am. For that, I need your eyes, and especially God’s eyes.

Confessing our sin to another is a great help in breaking the power that sin has over us. There is a psychological component at play here, but I don’t think the effect is merely psychological. Hidden sin is strong and will probably get stronger, but confessing sin takes away its power and hands it over to us. When we confess, sin’s hold on us weakens.

A liturgical confession is not meant to be a substitute for the confession we read about in James 5:16, but a help to it. When we corporately confess our sin and need, as well as Jesus’s lordship, we are stepping onto a path that leads straight into everyday life. Facing our sin in corporate worship helps us face it in daily life, instead of retreating into denial (1 John 1:10). The shared confession we speak publicly makes it easier to share a confession privately. And that makes it easier for me to become the joyful person God designed me to be.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Church, Faith, Peace with God, Prayer, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Every Christian Experience Spiritually Dry Times

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

It’s that time of year. The temperature has dropped, the leaves are falling, and we’ve started turning up the heat in the mornings. By 7:00 PM, it’s getting dark, and when DST ends just eight days from now, and it will be getting dark by 6:00. The air is drying out, t-shirts are beginning to crackle with static electricity, and lip balm will soon be flying off the shelves.

Just as this time of year can mean dryness in our homes, it can mean dryness in our souls. As people move toward the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, they may think, “I should be happy. Why can’t I get into the spirit of things? Why do I feel so dry?”

Something like 10 million Americans suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, and as many as 35 million others suffer milder forms of the same malady. Many of these people are Christians, who are further troubled by the thought that “real Christians” don’t experience dryness and depression. They worry that something must be wrong with them and fear they will be judged if they tell anyone of their emotional depression and spiritual dryness.

They might be surprised to learn that depression is a common ailment among clergy. The late John R.W. Stott, prominent scholar, former rector of All Souls Church, and founder of the Langham Partnership, called depression “the bane of the ministry.” C.H. Spurgeon, one of England’s greatest preachers, was sometimes too depressed to get out of bed. William Cowper, a devout Christian and one of the Eighteenth Century’s most distinguished poets, struggled with terrible bouts of depression throughout his life.

More recently, Louie Giglio, founder of the Passion Movement and pastor of Passion City church, has spoken candidly about his experience of depression. The influential megachurch pastor Rick Warren went through depression following the death of his son by suicide. Even spiritually mature people may experience depression. Everyone experiences periods of spiritual dryness.

Periods of spiritual dryness are not only common among people of faith, they are normal. Indeed, such dryness serves an important function in the development of Christian character. New believers are often dependent upon feelings of love, security, etc. for their well-being. They trust God when they feel trusting. They are kind when they feel kind. They are grateful for God’s salvation when they feel saved. But this is not enough: God will have us trust him, and not just our feelings about him. Periods of dryness serve to further this aim by removing the support of feelings and forcing us to rely on God alone.

The Scottish writer George Macdonald warns that during these dry times we are liable to mourn over our loss of positive feelings or, worse, “make frantic efforts to rouse them.” The problem is that when we address our feelings directly, they hide from sight. When we focus not on our feelings, but on truth, on God’s goodness, on his grace to us in Jesus Christ and, strangely enough, on our obligations, our feelings often return, rekindled and bright.

Macdonald suggests that it is during these periods of dryness – not in spite of them – that our wills are forged in the likeness of God’s will. When we cannot choose to love, we can yet fight the hatred that is in us. When we cannot feel good, we can cry to the one who is good. “Fold the arms of thy faith,” Macdonald counsels, “and wait in the quietness until light goes up in thy darkness,” as it surely will.

While waiting for faith to kindle, don’t neglect to do the things that ought to be done. Just “do it,” the old Scot urges us, “if it be but sweeping of a room, or the preparing of a meal, or a visit to a friend. Heed not thy feeling: Do thy work.”

In some cases, people experiencing depression should consult a physician, and medication may prove helpful. But in every case, the Lord will be with us, whether we feel him or not. He, too, knows what it is to feel desperately alone, for when he took on our flesh, he experienced even this. But we must keep in mind that his cry of desolation, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” was replaced in time with the greeting of joy: “Peace be with you.”

It will eventually be so for every one of Jesus’s people.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Get Closer to Jesus

This is the first of seven sermons in a series titled, “Get Closer.” Each week, we will look at how to get closer: to Jesus; to the person God intends us to be; to people in our church family; and to friends, family, and coworkers outside the church. Each week coheres to all the rest. Enjoy.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Sermons, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Why Can’t I Forgive?

When I speak or write on forgiveness, I know that people will respond with questions, and sometimes, objections. The subject hits home. We have all suffered some kind of wrong and we who are disciples of Jesus know that we must forgive. But how? How can I forgive when I am angry, feel betrayed, and cannot trust the person who has hurt me?

One of the reasons we do not forgive is that we misunderstand what constitutes forgiveness. We think that forgiveness means a cessation of anger. If that is so, and I am still angry, I must not have forgiven. But that is not so. Forgiveness makes it possible for me to let go of my anger, but it is not an anger-reliever in the way that ibuprofen is a pain reliever.

If you slap my face, I may forgive you, but my face will still sting. Forgiveness does not make the pain go away. Likewise, forgiveness does not make the anger go away. That takes time, prayer (not just for yourself but for your offender), and the reception of grace.

We’ve been told that to forgive is to forget, and if we have not forgotten, we have not forgiven. Jeremiah 31:34 is sometimes quoted in support of this claim, for God says that he “will forgive their wickedness and remember their sins no more.” If God forgets my sin when he forgives, mustn’t I forget your sins when I forgive?

But God does not say that he will forget. Rather, he says that he will not remember. In Jewish culture, to remember is more than the unintended recollection of some past event. To remember is to recall, to reimagine, even to reenact some past event. So, when God told the Jews to remember what he had done during their journey through the wilderness, he instructed them to relive it for a week, to build “tabernacles” and stay in them, to reenact the wilderness wanderings. They called it “The Feast of Tabernacles.”

When God says he will not remember, he does not mean that he cannot remember—he does not have amnesia. He means that he will not recall what has happened (our sin) to our harm. He will not use what we have done against us. He chooses not to “relive” our wrongdoing or summon it up to use in judgment against us.

When we forgive, we do the same. It is not that we cannot, but that we will not, remember. When Clara Barton, the founder of the American Red Cross, attended an event where a former enemy – someone who had done wrong by her – was present, her friend pointed the wrongdoer out and recalled what the woman had done. Clara seemed not to remember. The woman, surprised, said something like, “Surely, you remember,” and went on to detail the offence. When Clara did not get upset about it, her friend persisted. Finally, Clara said: “I distinctly remember having forgotten that.”

That is what we do when we forgive. It is not that we cannot remember, but that we choose not to remember in order to harm the other person—even in our own minds. To forgive is not to forget, nor is it the cessation of anger. Forgiveness is a covenant before God not to use a person’s sins against them to their harm. When I have forgiven, I will not recall that person’s offence in order to harm them in the eyes of other people, in my own eyes, or by taking vengeance (even the passive-aggressive kind) against them.

There is still more to forgiveness, which I have described elsewhere (https://shaynelooper.com/2022/10/30/as-we-forgive-our-debtors/), but even after people understand what forgiveness entails, they may still struggle to forgive—and not know why. They have decided not to harm the other person in any way, even in their own thoughts, yet they continue to do so. Why isn’t it (forgiveness) working? Why can’t they do it?

One reason may be that, although they have forgiven the offender for the offence – something that took place years ago when he/she did this to me – they have not forgiven the offender for the hurts that offence caused. For example, I might forgive you for telling a lie about me in your foursome on the golf course last summer, but that lie cost me a promotion. It caused a rift between me and a long-time friend. It led people at my church to distrust me.

If I am going to forgive you, I must not only forgive you for what you did, but for what you caused. This is often the missing link in forgiveness, and the reason for our seeming inability to forgive. This kind of forgiveness is costly, but it is the kind that God himself offers. He not only forgives us for what we have done, but for what we have caused. The repercussions of human sin have been vast and inexpressibly harmful, causing even the death of the Lord of heaven and earth, yet God has forgiven. And he is our example (Colossians 3:13).

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Peace with God, relationships, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Covenant: What It Is, How It Works

We are taking two weeks to try to understand what it means to be in covenant with God. Covenant plays an important role in the story of the Bible because God is conducting his rescue operation for creation in partnership with humans, and that partnership is structured around covenants. A covenant is a solemn agreement that brings two parties into some kind of partnership.

Let me elaborate on that definition. A covenant is a solemn agreement. It is serious. We can see that in an Old Testament story about Israel, just after Joshua led them into the promised land. God told Israel’s leaders that they were not under any circumstance to make a covenant with the people living in Canaan. But when an embassy of Gibeonites arrived, claiming to have come from a distant land, and wanting to enter into covenant with Israel, those leaders were duped. The Gibeonites had been told that Israel would not make a covenant with them if they knew where they were from, so they carried out an elaborate ruse. (You can read about it in Joshua 9.) When Israel learned it was all a lie, they wanted to renege on the covenant, but God would not let them. They had done a foolish thing, but now that they were in covenant, they must uphold it. God takes covenant very seriously.

A word about “partnership” is needed as well. In his generosity, God enters into partnership with us. It is not an equal partnership, as we’ll see. He does almost all the work, and we receive the benefit. But that does not mean that we have no responsibilities. You cannot be in covenant without responsibilities. J. I. Packer described covenant as a “voluntary mutual commitment that binds each party to the other.” God has bound himself to us by covenant.

We’re looking at Genesis 15 today. It shows us something of the actual process by which people in ancient times entered into a covenant. It was a bloody business and seems gruesome to our 21st century sensibilities, but it shows us the solemnity of covenant and the seriousness of breaking it.

The chapter begins this way: “After this, the word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision: “Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your very great reward.” This verse just begs to be put it into context. “After this…” After what?

In the preceding passage, we learn that Abraham had gone to war against five kings. When we read that they were kings, don’t think of the kings of England or of France. These kings didn’t rule over a nation but over a city and its outlying villages, so we’re not talking about massive armies. But they had combined forces and had attacked the city-state where Abraham’s nephew Lot was living. They conquered it and took captives, including Lot and his family. Captives in such wars were either killed or sold into slavery. Abraham was not about to let that happen. Read Genesis 14 sometime; it plays out like an adventure movie.

Abraham was not a king, but he was rich and powerful. He put together an army that included 318 of his own men, plus mercenaries, and he went after the five kings. He and his men caught up to them at night, routed them, and freed the prisoners.

The king of Sodom, where Lot had lived, was delighted to get his people and treasures back and offered Abraham a substantial reward, which would have included the land ruled by the five kings. Abraham declined the offer. In their brief exchange, it is clear that Abraham had no respect the king of Sodom and wanted nothing to do with him. Then Abraham returned home.

So, what might have been going through Abraham’s mind after all this? He had defeated those kings at night in a surprise attack and with the help of mercenaries. But if those same kings were to mount an attack against him now, it would be a very different story. Were they already planning their revenge?

And had he done the right thing in turning down the reward? This operation had cost him a lot of money, and he had no way of recouping it. In the middle of the night, thoughts like these may have plagued Abraham.

That was when the word of the Lord, whose timing is always right, came to Abraham in a vision. This is the first time we read of the word of the Lord coming to a person. It is also the first time we hear of anyone having a vision. The Lord tells Abraham that he is his shield, that is, his protection. He needn’t worry about the five kings seeking vengeance. He also tells Abraham that he is his “very great reward.” He needn’t worry about having enough. He has the Lord, and whoever has the Lord has enough.

But Abraham does not think he has enough. There is one thing he is missing: a son to inherit the land God promised him. So, Abraham says, “O Sovereign LORD, what can you give me since I remain childless and the one who will inherit my estate is Eliezer of Damascus? …You have given me no children; so a servant in my household will be my heir.”

God could have argued with Abraham, or chastised him for his lack of faith, but instead, he satisfied him with a promise: “…a son coming from your own body will be your heir.” Then God took Abraham outside in his vision, showed him the stars, and said, “Count them—if you can.” Of course, he could not: There are something like 10 septillion stars in the universe. (10 septillion is a one followed by 25 zeroes.) Then God told him, you won’t be able to count your descendants either; there will be too many of them.

Abraham was somewhere around 80-years-old at the time. Would he really have children at his age? But the word of the Lord not only informs, it transforms. God’s word not only speaks truth; it makes us capable of believing the truth and acting on it. Abraham believed God, and it was (v. 6) counted to him as righteousness.

Abraham believed God that he would have a son, and yet he turned right around and asked God for proof that he would have the land. I am glad that is included in the Scriptures. It shows me that Abraham was a lot like us. We can believe God one moment and doubt him the next. But God knows that, and he accommodates our weak faith more often than we can imagine.

We would expect God to answer Abraham with a detailed explanation of how the land will be given to him and his descendants. But God gives him something much better: he gives him a covenant. In chapter 12, God promised Abraham descendants and land. Now, God enters into covenant with Abraham as proof that he will fulfill his promises. To Abraham’s mind – to the mind of anyone living in that culture – ratifying a covenant would be the ultimate proof. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Look at verse 9: “So the LORD said to him…” (This in response to Abraham’s request for proof: You want proof?) “…bring me a heifer, a goat and a ram, each three years old, along with a dove and a young pigeon.”

What kind of proof is a heifer, a goat, and a ram? That does not seem like proof to us, but Abraham understood it perfectly. God was going to make a covenant with him. Abraham brings them to the Lord, and then proceeds to kill and cut in half each of the large animals. I told you that it is a bloody, gruesome business.

It’s also no small task. Leading, killing, and then cutting in half an animal – it’s not like Abraham owned a chain saw – would take time. Killing all these animals and cutting the four-footed one’s in half would require many hours and be exhausting work. After Abraham cuts them in half, he arranges the halves opposite each other (v. 10). Can you visualize what Abraham is doing? He puts one half the heifer here, and the other half there. Half the goat here, and the other half there. Half the ram here, and the other half there. It is almost as if he were creating a path that runs between the animal halves.

That is exactly what he was doing. Ever since the Lord told him to bring these animals, Abraham has understood what he was supposed to do. This is the procedure for making, or as the Hebrew idiom has it, for cutting a covenant. With all this blood and the smell of dead animals rising into the air, carrion birds show up, looking for a meal. So, Abraham, exhausted, has to remain vigilant, and drive away the birds. And he waits.

The afternoon turns into evening, the evening grows dark, and still Abraham waits. What is he waiting for? He is waiting for the arrival of his covenant partner. Abraham knows how this works. The two parties involved in the covenant need to walk down the aisle created by the placement of the animal parts. That is how covenants are ratified.

That seems bizarre to us. Walking between a bunch of dead, smelly animals somehow seals the deal, cements the promise, ratifies the covenant? Yes. But why? Because by walking between the pieces of the dead animals, the covenant partners are saying, “If I do not keep the covenant I have made, may my life be like that of these animals.”

The covenant partners are taking a curse on themselves should their covenant commitments go unfulfilled. I told you that making a covenant is serious business. The most common covenant in American life is the covenant of marriage. At least, that is what people once called it, and that was true whether they were religious or not. But today, that terminology has dropped out of many wedding ceremonies. Maybe that is understandable when one out of two marriages ends in divorce, often after one or both parties have reneged on their covenant vows. No one explained to them the seriousness of the vows they were making.

You know the vows, right? “To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.” That is a covenant promise; making it is serious business.

That’s why, when I officiate a wedding, I tell people that if they write their own vows, I will need to approve them. I won’t let couples recite nonsense to each other, like the bride and groom that promised to be there for each other as “long as love shall last.” Drivel like that won’t help love last. Feelings, regardless of their sincerity and intensity, are bound to ebb and flow, whereas a covenant commitment remains, and that makes lasting love possible.

Now, let’s go back to the text and see what’s happening. Abraham has been waiting for his covenant partner to show up and driving away the carrion birds while he waits. But when evening comes, the birds give up and go back to their nests. Abraham sits down and, tired as he is, falls asleep. His covenant partner has been waiting for this moment. With Abraham asleep and unable to walk the perilous path, the Lord speaks to him again. He tells him, verses 13 and 14, that his descendants will inherit the land but it will take 400 years, and they will be slaves in a foreign land. But when the time is right, they will be freed and will return to take possession of the covenant land.

Now, look at verses 17 and 18: “When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your offspring I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates…”

The covenant is being ratified. But something is wrong. Only one of the covenant partners – the smoking fire pot and a flaming torch represent God who is a consuming fire – passes between the pieces of the animals. It is God, not Abraham, who invites the curse on himself if the covenant vows go unfulfilled. Abraham is asleep. He can’t do anything to help, and that is precisely the point. God is taking it on himself to fulfill this covenant. Whatever Abraham and his descendants do or do not do, God will see to it that the covenant is fulfilled. He has promised to bless all the peoples of the earth through Abraham, and nothing will stop him—cross his heart and hope to die.

So, what do we do with what we’ve seen in this strange passage? For one thing, we ought not settle for second best. Abraham went to war against the five kings in order to rescue Lot and his family. He was not trying to expand his territory or increase his power. He wasn’t looking to gain wealth. But after the battle, the King of Sodom offered Abraham the spoils of war, which included the territory of the five kings.

That territory comprised a good share of the land that God had promised to Abraham. He could have it right now—without the wait. And maybe this was God’s way of keeping his promise. But it would mean cozying up to that slimy, morally corrupt king of Sodom—forming an alliance with him, a covenant. So, what was Abraham to do?

Here’s a similar situation. Adam and Eve are offered the forbidden fruit. If they eat it, they will become like God, knowing good and evil. And isn’t that what God wanted? He made them “in his image.” Isn’t his plan, as we read later in Scripture, to conform all humanity to the glorious likeness of his Son. So why wait? Why not get it now?

Here’s yet another instance of the same kind of situation. Jesus is in the wilderness. The devil takes him to the summit of a high mountain, apparently in a vision, and shows him all the kingdoms of the earth and their splendor. Then he says, “I will give you all this. It will be your kingdom. Then you can do what you’ve always wanted to do: end hunger, end suffering, usher in an age of justice and peace. And all you have to do is bow down and worship me.”

Of course, God was already planning on giving Jesus all the kingdoms of the earth. But why wait? Why not have it now? Why should humanity endure its suffering any longer?

In each case, people can have something immediately that God intends to give them later.  The catch is they have to go against God’s ways to get it. Adam and Eve refused to wait, and they did receive the knowledge of good and evil, but not in the way God intended. Yes, they know good (as do all their children), but only through the lens of evil. If they had obeyed God, they (and we) would have known evil only through the lens of good.

Had Abraham taken the bait, he would have immediately possessed the land that his descendants had to wait 400 years to obtain. However, those descendants would not have learned to trust the Lord; they would not have seen his power; they would not have become his partners in the covenant. But they would have been indebted to the slimy king of Sodom.

Had Jesus taken the bait, he would have had the authority to do the things his heart desired, but it would have been the devil’s kind authority—a usurped authority, a tyrant’s authority. By doing it God’s way, Jesus has been exalted to the highest place and given the name above all names. He will do all that his heart desires, but he will do it with and through us, and so bless all the peoples of the earth.

We are an impatient people, and each new time-saving device that hits the market leaves us even more impatient. That’s a real problem for people who want to know God, because he’s never in a rush. Intimacy is not built on the run. It takes time to build a relationship with God. Are you giving him that time?

Besides that, hurried people make horrid decisions. Perhaps you need to slow down!

I said earlier that when God walked through the sacrificial animals alone, he took the responsibilities of fulfilling the covenant on himself. The God who would become a man – a descendant of Abraham – represented both parties on the perilous walk. God called the curse down on himself should the covenant be broken. And the One who sees the end from the beginning knew exactly where that would lead.

Abraham’s descendants would fail to keep the covenant, but it was God who would bear the curse. Listen to what St. Paul, who understood these things, wrote: “Christ” – Son of God, son of man, seed of Abraham – “redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.’”

Now listen as Paul explains: “He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus…” (Galatians 3:13-14).

God knew what the cost of keeping covenant with people like us would be. And he kept it anyway. That is our God. Let us be his people.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Covenant: What It Is, How It Works

(Viewing time: 29:29.)

This sermon, based in Genesis 15, reveals what God is like and why is promises are trustworthy. (If you would like to read the sermon rather than watch/listen, click here.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Peace with God, Sermons, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Covenant Flyover

The concept of “covenant” is important to understand for anyone who cares about the message of the Bible. God’s rescue effort for humanity and all creation is structured around covenant. This sermon surveys the covenant landscape and considers the five principal covenants between God and humans.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Faith, Mission, Sermons, Truthfulness | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Now You See Me

The Most Staggering Thing Jesus Ever Said

Watch this final sermon in the series, What God Is Like. It is good news!

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Sermons, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Is the Church Even Necessary?

You probably know my answer, but you may not know my reasons.

According to Catholic doctrine, the Church is absolutely necessary. The church father Cyprian declared Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus— “Outside the Church there is no salvation.” After eighteen centuries, that is still official Catholics doctrine. Pope John Paul II affirmed it. Pope Benedict XVI literally wrote the book on it. (Well, it was not a book exactly; it was a 36-page official church declaration.)

Though I would not use Cyprian’s words to stress the importance of the church, I agree that the church is important. A rich and life-transforming knowledge of Christ requires the church. I am not saying that a person needs to attend church services every week, or even attend at all. Christ can transform lives even in circumstances where church attendance is impossible, such as illness, confinement, forced isolation, etc. Nevertheless, the wise God has designed the church to be the medium in which the rich, life-transforming knowledge of Christ is imparted.

In Colossians chapter two, Paul tells believers in Colosse that he has been in a great struggle for them and their neighboring Christians in Laodicea. He struggles so that their hearts may be encouraged as they are “being knit together in love” (KJV). This, Paul knows, will lead to (εἰς in Greek) the “full riches of complete understanding” or, as other versions translate, “the full assurance of understanding,” which will in turn lead to (εἰς again) the “knowledge of the mystery of God—Christ.”

Paul’s ultimate goal is for people to have the knowledge of the mystery of God, which he sums up in one word: “Christ.” If we work backwards from Paul’s ultimate goal, we can see how he expected people to arrive there. Paul understood that the life-transforming knowledge of Christ rests upon “the full riches of complete understanding.” If Christians are to have assurance, it is crucial for them to understand their situation and their story.

I have found that few Christians have a robust understanding of their situation and their story. Without that understanding, it is hard for them to see how the Bible (or a worship service, or a sermon) relates to their lives. They lack the assurance that comes from understanding. They wonder if this is all there is to the Christian life. Other than attending church occasionally (the current norm among self-identifying Evangelicals is 1.3 times a month), their lives are nearly indistinguishable from those of their non-Christian friends.

They need “the full assurance of understanding,” but shouldn’t they already have it if they are reading the Bible and sitting under good teaching? The answer to that question is apparent in Colossians 2:2. The kind of understanding we need comes to people with encouraged hearts. People with discouraged hearts misunderstand what is going on around them. They lack awareness of God and his goodness. If people are ever going to understand the blessing they have in Christ, they need to have encouraged hearts.

As a pastor, I know how important it is for my church family to be encouraged in heart, but that seems like too big a job for me. Will my preaching, teaching, and visiting be enough to encourage our church family’s hearts? Years of preaching, teaching, and visiting suggest that the answer is no. However many sermons I may preach, or podcasts, newsletters, or magazine columns I may produce, I cannot provide the kind of encouragement that leads to understanding, assurance, and the life-transforming knowledge of Christ.

A congregation with encouraged hearts is too big a job for me or for any one of us, but not for all of us—and that is the way God designed it. Together, under the direction of God’s Spirit, we can live and thrive in an encouraged community. This is behind Paul’s goal for the churches to “be encouraged in heart and united in love.” The NIV’s addition of the conjunction “and” in this sentence is misleading, suggesting that being encouraged in heart and united in love are two separate goals. In Greek, there is a participial phrase that (translated literally) runs: “that they may be encouraged in heart, being united in love.”

In other words, peoples’ hearts are encouraged when they are united to each other in love. Being alone discourages our hearts, while being united in love encourages them. And since an encouraged heart leads to the full assurance of understanding, it is critical that our church families are united in love.

There is another thing here. The word translated “united,” like nearly all words, has a range of meanings. This word was sometimes used of marshalling (uniting) disparate facts in order to prove a point. Luke uses it in this way when he says that Saul “baffled the Jews living in Damascus by proving that Jesus is the Christ.” I am not suggesting that Paul intended the word to have that particular sense in Colossians 2. I am saying that when the hearts of a church family are united, the outside world sees powerful “proof” of the reality of God.

In today’s world (as well as yesterday’s), there are many influences working to disunite us. This is not an accident. A church that is united in love will dislodge the devil, conduct itself with assurance, convince doubters, know Christ by experience, and change the world. One of the principal goals of any church must be to unite the hearts of all her people in love. That is certainly God’s goal.

Reaching that goal will require intention and effort from the pastor, the ministry staff, the board, every Sunday School teacher, deacon, treasurer, trustee, worship leader, sound/video tech, and member. Unity is a goal that benefits all of us and requires effort from each of us. But the effort is worth it, for it leads to “the full riches of complete understanding,” which makes possible it possible for us to know “the mystery of God,” which is “Christ” himself.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Church, Church Life, Encouragement, Faith, relationships, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Can Erika Kirk Really Forgive Charlie’s Killer?

Erika Kirk delivers remarks during the Memorial Service for Charlie Kirk at State Farm Stadium in Glendale, Arizona, Sunday, September 21, 2025.(Official White House Photo by Daniel Torok)

The actor Tim Allen says that Erika Kirk inspired him to forgive the drunk driver who killed his father when he was only 11. Jimmy Kimmel says that Mrs. Kirk’s act of forgiveness deeply moved him and he wants to follow her example. Maybe we want to follow her example and forgive the people who have hurt us, but how are we supposed to do that?

We make a choice to do it. I suspect that Erika Kirk did not feel like forgiving Tyler Robinson, but she chose to do so. Forgiveness never happens by accident. It is always a choice—usually a choice that goes against the grain of our feelings. If we put off forgiveness until we feel like it, we will never forgive. We must make a choice to forgive, and we must act on it.

But what does that even mean? What are we doing when we forgive someone? Are we saying that what the other person offense didn’t really matter? Not at all. We overlook what does not matter. We forgive what does. We bear with people’s quirks and irritating ways. We forgive their sins (Colossians 3:13). Forgiveness always implies that something has taken place that really matters.

Does the offer of forgiveness indicate that we are no longer hurt or angry? It does not. I suspect the Erika Kirk will have to battle many emotional hours of anger and bitterness. Forgiveness is not a magic wand. You cannot swipe it over your anger or sorrow and make it go away. Forgiveness is more like a door. By forgiving, you open the door so that those negative emotions can leave. You cannot force them through the door, but in time they will often leave of their own accord (so to speak).

Does forgiveness require me to act like the offense never happened? Do I need to remain in functioning relationship with the offender? Do I need to trust the person, possibly exposing myself or my children to further injury?

No. Forgiving someone is not the same thing as trusting them. Once trust has been damaged, it may never be rebuilt, and even if it is, it will take time, sometimes many years.

Does forgiveness mean that I must forget what happened? Forgive and forget – isn’t that what people say? And isn’t that what God does? In the Book of Jeremiah, he promises to “remember their sins no more.” So, if I cannot forget, isn’t that proof that I have not forgiven?

God’s promise to “remember their sins no more” does not mean that he cannot remember their sin, but that he chooses not to remember. God does not have dementia. He will never put a finger to pursed lips and say, “Now, what was it that Shayne Looper did?” That is not what forgiveness means. He knows everything, including every sin I have ever committed, but he chooses not to recall them to my harm.

When we forgive, we are doing the same thing. We are choosing not to use a person’s sin against them to harm them. Does that mean, for example, that we choose not to report a crime against us, like Bishop Myriel did when he forgave Jean Valjean in Les Misérables? Not necessarily. It means that we do not recall the person’s crime because we want to harm them. But allowing someone to evade the punishment they deserve (and may need) could cause them (and others) even greater harm. In situations like this, we must do to others what we would have them do to us, were we in their position; and that requires wisdom born of much prayer.

When Erika Kirk forgave her husband’s killer, she was choosing not to harm him because of what he did to her. That includes harming him in her own mind: rehearsing the evil he has done, fantasizing his suffering, maliciously wanting his ruin, attempting to get other people to hate him, etc. Mrs. Kirk will need to stand upon the choice she has already made, for such thoughts will come. She will need our prayers.

There is another aspect to forgiveness, a potential pitfall about which we must be aware. When we forgive a person, we are not only forgiving what they did but also what they caused. The harm caused to Mrs. Kirk is myriad and lasting. Tyler Robinson took away the father of her children. She no longer has a husband to get up with the 3-year-old when she wakes from a bad dream. The one-year-old lacks a father to rock him and sing to him. When their daughter is 13, Charlie will not be there to go with her to the daddy-daughter dance. When she is 24, Charlie will not be there to walk her down the aisle.

These losses will come to Mrs. Kirk day after day, week after week, year after year. They are not going away. She must be able to forgive her husband’s killer for these things too, or a bitterness will grow in her that will eventually take over her life. The hurt the man caused was only beginning when the report of the assassin’s rifle faded. It will go on, a life-long reminder of what he took from her. And her forgiveness must also go on too, encompassing not only what her husband’s killer did but what he caused.

If this is what forgiveness entails, how can Erika Kirk – or anyone else – ever truly forgive? It would require something like superhuman strength and resolve.

That is exactly what it requires, and we are not superhuman. So, how can we forgive? To do what God calls us to do – whether in forgiveness or in other things he has commanded – we need a connection to God through which his superhuman strength can reach us. That connection is the Spirit—the Spirit that is given to everyone who believes on Jesus and confesses him Lord. In her own strength, Erika Kirk is incapable of living out the forgiveness she has offered. It is a good thing that she isn’t forced to rely on her own strength.

God’s strength, originating from outside us but flowing through us, is necessary to live out the forgiveness that Jesus commanded and modeled—forgiveness which we saw memorably expressed by a grieving widow on Sunday. To those who have been united to God through faith in Jesus Christ, he imparts his strength, enabling them to do what they could never do on their own.

Like forgiving their spouse’s murderer.

Posted in Bible, Christianity, Encouragement, Faith, Spiritual life, Theology | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments