This past month, I had an opportunity to minister in Western Kenya by leading a pastor’s conference alongside my friend, fellow ETBU-alumnus, and fellow two-time SWBTS-alumnus, John Schultz. John leads a non-profit called Equip the Nations, inc and had reached out to me several months ago, asking if I would be interested in helping lead the conference. But in order to understand the effect of that invitation, I need to back up a bit.

In the Fall 2013 semester, a professor reminded our class that our presence on campus was not due simply to our own prowess. However capable we may be, there are others around the world just as capable as we are—some even more so—who do not have the opportunity to the education and training we were receiving. His was a call for humility and good stewardship on our part—that we did not waste the opportunity that the Lord had granted us. His words planted a seed that would sprout a few years later.

In January of 2017, I had the opportunity to travel to Malaysia and help teach a one-week intensive course at the seminary on Penang island. In preparation for that trip, we researched the state of Christianity around the world and sought how best to communicate the truths of Scripture in a cultural context distinct from our own. Much like my hermeneutics professor at ETBU, Bob Utley, taught me, I endeavored to understand what presuppositions and cultural understandings I brought to the exegetical task and, recognizing them, separate that which was cultural on my part from that which is central to Scripture. In Malaysia, I realized how much I enjoyed the work of teaching cross-culturally and I committed to make the effort to teach internationally on an annual basis

But life has a habit of getting in the way. The difficulties of the past 18 months or so had put that commitment in a holding pattern. It seemed unwise to look for international, cross-cultural teaching opportunities when I was also looking for full-time employment. How could I commit to an international trip when I didn’t know where I would be leaving from?

Two years after Malaysia, I remember confessing to my wife that I was frustrated that everything had been on hold for as long as it had been. I needed to go, I told her. The Holy Spirit had impressed upon my heart that my circumstances weren’t to preclude me from my commitment any longer. So we began to pray for an opportunity.

Only days later, I received a text from John asking if I would be interested in traveling to Kenya with him to train some pastors. While the Lord was working in my own heart, he had led John and his wife to ask me to join him.

But why do I share that?

Because while I don’t know exactly what you’re experiencing, it can sometimes feel like the world is spinning uncontrollably and I can’t seem to find solid footing. But then experiences like this happen and we’re reminded that there is a sovereign hand that still guides history.

In the same week, the Lord impressed it upon me that it was time to return to a commitment I had made and he had already worked out how I would get back to it.

And that’s encouraging, isn’t it? Because it means that, however long we may feel that we’ve waited and however long we’ve struggled, at just the right time, the Lord works things out. And while we shouldn’t try to understand it in the midst of the striving—after all, that tends to lead to despair because we simply do not know the mind of the Lord and he never works on our time-table—the Lord’s hand is always clear on the other side. Our responsibility isn’t to understand the waiting; it’s to lean into his will and to trust that he will work all things out.

The Atonement: A Biblical, Theological, and Historical Study of the Cross of Christ. By David L. Allen. Nashville: B&H Academic, 2019. 352 pp. $34.99

Several years ago, I found myself at pastor’s conference attended primarily those of a particular theological persuasion. Unsurprisingly, the theme of the conference celebrated the theology of the Reformation which turned 500-years old that year. And as the attendees walked through the bookstore, I observed several snickering at David L. Allen’s book, Lukan Authorship of Hebrews.

I’m a firm believer that every argument should at the least be tested before dismissed, so I asked if they had read the book and considered Allen’s argument. They, of course, said no. So I asked who they believed to have authored the letter to the Hebrews. One said he liked to think it was Barnabas. Another preferred to think of it as having been someone’s record of several of Paul’s sermons pieced together. But when I asked why they had come to those conclusions, they had no argument—no reasoning for their conclusions. They simply saw it as an unsolvable piece of historical curiosity that no one could know with any certainty, so they simply chose which option appealed to them.

I responded stating that while they may disagree with Allen’s conclusion, they at least needed to reckon with the fact that he had an argument. He had reasoning behind his conclusion. And he built it upon solid research (upon his doctoral dissertation). Whether they believed that he came to the right conclusion or not, his was supported; their’s was not.

Allen’s latest book, The Atonement: A Biblical, Theological, and Historical Study of the Cross of Christ, may be dismissed or overlooked by those who disagree with Allen’s conclusion concerning the extent of the atonement (unlimited, rather than limited), but it should not.

In it, Allen offers an accessible examination of each passage concerning the atonement in the Old and New Testaments. Likewise, he offers a helpful historical overview of the metaphors and models used by theologians through the centuries and considers both the necessity and nature of the atonement, arguing the primacy of the penal substitution model:

Christ substituted Himself for the sins of all people, living or dead; He died in their place bearing their sin. This substitution was sacrificial in nature and constituted a satisfaction for all sin so that God’s broken law has been vindicated. This substitutionary death resulted in an objective reconciliation, removing all legal barriers between God and man (188).

But the most helpful chapters in Allen’s treatment (in my opinion) are “The Intent, Extent, and Application of the Atonement” (149–86) and “Special Issues Concerning the Atonement” (215–39). As I have written elsewhere, Allen’s treatment of the atonement in three questions (intent, extent, and application) has brought significant clarity to an issue that has experienced significant confusion and oversimplification in recent years. While none of these questions should be answered to the exclusion of the other, they must first be answered individually from the text before compiled into doctrinal form.

Concerning the intent of the atonement, Allen is on solid footing in writing, “Is there any statement in Scripture that indicates God’s intention or desire is not to save some people? There is none” (150). He distinguishes between provision and application, writing, “Biblically speaking, the atonement was intended to provide a payment for sin for all people as well as to apply salvation only to those who believe” (152). After having considered every passage in both the Old and New Testaments concerning the atonement, Allen writes,

no atonement text in Scripture states that Christ died only for the “elect” (contra high and hyper-Calvinists). There is no atonement text in Scripture stating that God intends to save only the elect (contra all Calvinists). There is no atonement text in Scripture stating that God wills only the salvation of the elect (contra all hyper-Calvinists who deny God’s universal saving will). If unconditional election as defined in Reformed theology is true, it cannot be supported from any atonement text in Scripture. Those texts that do speak in any way to the intention of the atonement as a sacrifice for sins never limit the recipients in terms of God’s intent to save or in terms of the extent of the atonement (153–54).

Concerning the extent of the atonement, Allen observes that there are really only two possible answers: the elect alone (limited atonement), and all humanity (unlimited atonement). Allen then marshals 14 texts asserting an unlimited atonement and an additional 14 that affirm it implicitly before concluding, “there is no single text of Scripture asserting Jesus died only for the sins of the elect. . . . Limited atonement is mostly a theological deduction based primarily upon a certain understanding of predestination and election. . . . almost all the arguments against unlimited atonement and for limited atonement are logical and deductive in nature” (156). Further emphasizing his point, “There is no statement in Scripture that says Jesus died only for the sins of the elect” (158).

He lists the traditional verses used in support of a limited atonement model and writes,

not a single one says that Christ died for the sins only of ‘his people,’ ‘the sheep,’ ‘the church,’ or ‘friends.’ Since these texts mention a limited group for whom salvation was intended, or for whom Christ died, the assumption is made that these texts affirm Christ intended to bring salvation only to these groups, or that he died only for these people. This line of argument is logically flawed because it invokes the negative inference fallacy, which says the proof of a proposition does not disprove its converse. When Paul says, ‘Christ . . . gave Himself [died] for me’ in Gal 2:20, we cannot infer that He died only for Paul (157).

Allen then answers the most common objections to an unlimited provision of the atonement: double payment, triple choice, Trinitarian disunity, universalism entailed, and Christ’s intercession limited to the elect.

Finally, concerning the application of the atonement, Allen rightly concludes,

The atonement in and of itself saves no one. . . . There is nothing in the atonement itself that makes it effectual for anyone. To be effectual, the atonement must be applied by the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. This is a theological truth that is confirmed by the likes of such great Calvinistic theologians as Charles Hodge, Robert Dabney, W. G. T. Shedd, A. H. Strong, and Millard Erickson, not to mention many others (184).

In his chapter entitled, “Special Issues Concerning the Atonement,” Allen answers common questions that are often neglected in broader works: Is the atonement actual or potential? Do the blood of OT sacrifices and the blood of Jesus represent life or death? How is Christ’s penal substitutionary death on the cross related to the law and the sins of humanity for which he died? Is the blood of Christ “wasted” on those who are eternally lost? Did Christ die for “all without distinction” or “all without exception”? How does the atonement operate? What is meant when we speak of sin being imputed to Christ? If Christ died for the sins of all people, how can God justly condemn anyone to hell? Since the atonement satisfies the justice of God, how is salvation an act of mercy? What is the relationship of atonement to forgiveness? Is there “healing” in the atonement? What is the role of the Holy Spirit in the atonement and its application?

In this work, Allen shows himself to be an able defender of the penal substitutionary model of the atonement. One might object that Allen’s treatment of the atonement repeatedly falls prey to his emphasis on an unlimited provision of the atonement (although one could hardly fault him for doing so; he has already offered 820 pages in The Extent of the Atonement: A Historical and Critical Review considering that very issue; it certainly a subject to which he has given extensive time, energy, thought, and research). Nevertheless, those who may approach the subject of the atonement without a strong, predetermined conclusion on that issue, will find in Allen, the mind of a scholar, the heart of a pastor, and the simplicity of a preacher. Those who disagree with Allen’s conclusions concerning the nature or extent of the atonement will find him carefully-reasoned and well-researched. As such, should they snicker and dismiss his work without considering his arguments carefully, they do so to their own detriment.

Win a Copy!

I have been given an extra copy of Allen’s book. If you’d be interested in winning it, share this post on twitter or facebook and be sure to follow @cafftheo. Drop a comment saying that you’ve done those things and you’ll be entered!

As I speak with pastors, one topic that comes up again and again concerns the difficulties faced when leading change in the church. Whether it entails the adjustment of a service time, the elimination of a beloved program, or changing a curriculum, or any other deeply-entrenched facet in the church, change is hard. So I want to offer 4 steps to leading change in the church. But first, allow me to offer one caveat:

If you’re within the first year—especially if you’re in the first six months at this particular church, stop. Don’t make any sudden changes.

Seriously.

I’m not kidding.

Unless someone is in sin or the building is going to fall down, you need to take the slow approach. If you’re new to the church, there’s a reality at play that you might not be aware of—they may have voted for you to serve as their pastor, but they don’t trust you yet. You haven’t earned it.

They want to; don’t get me wrong. But you haven’t walked through life alongside them enough just yet. Which means that as soon as your change runs into the slightest amount of friction, because “you” haven’t become part of who they would identify as “us,” it’s going to be perceived as “your” fault. As soon as the families they’ve sat beside in the pew for years begin to leave, they’re not going to be impressed with your pastoral experience in other churches or your seminary degree. And you and your idea will be the object of their frustration.

Don’t do it. Take the first 6–12 months in your new church to learn not just what the church is doing, but why they’re doing it.

Pastors often share their frustration that the church entrusts more authority to the deacon body than the Bible calls for. But, many times, the deacon body serves as the steady hand of leadership in the church while a litany of pastors move in, change things up, and move on to another church. Perhaps we ought to take into consideration that this isn’t the biblical pattern either.

Love your flock enough to slow down, be deliberate, and make changes after you’ve spent enough time among the flock to know why they do what they do in the manner in which they’re doing it. Once you’ve done that and you sense the need to make a change, then you’re ready to take the first step.

Communicate the Need

Take the time to express to the congregation why change is necessary. Perhaps it has been the case that the current slate of programs isn’t making disciples. Or maybe you’ve determined that people in the church aren’t connecting with other believers and Christian fellowship seems to be lacking. Maybe you’ve outgrown your worship space and need to move to two services to provide room for more visitors. It may be that you have been short on children’s educational space for months.

Whatever the reason you believe makes the change necessary—share that. I’ll let you in on a secret: your people can buy into a change that fixes a problem. But they don’t want to change for the sake of change.

Several years ago, a godly layman helped me see the importance of this aspect of leadership. In his previous church, they had faced difficulty raising enough money to begin construction of a new children’s building. They were out of space for the kids. But because the children were already out of sight (in their own space), the congregation wasn’t reminded of the need regularly enough. So, this layman contacted a construction company and had them go to the church property and dig a giant hole where the new building was to be. That way, every time someone drove past the church, they saw the need. Each time to drove up to attend worship, they were faced with the reality that they needed to give in order to build the children’s building to fill that hole.He understood the importance of communicating the need.

Share the Vision

Once you’ve communicated the need and “dug the hole” as it were, you get to cast the vision of how to meet that need. This is where the change you hope to make comes in to play. Because the church hasn’t been effectively reaching the lost, you think an evangelistic emphasis is necessary. Because the church hasn’t been effectively making disciples, you think a new program that emphasizes one-on-one discipleship, or a new Sunday School curriculum is needed. Because families have begun to feel disconnected, you want to ramp up the number of fellowship activities. Because you’re out of seats in the worship space, a new service is needed.

Whatever change it is that you’re hoping to make, share the vision of how it is that the change you want to implement meets that need.

Get people on board. Talk it through in one-on-one conversations. Discuss it with trusted advisors. Go speak with the people that you think are the least likely to get on board. (If you can win them over, even for a trial period, you’ve already laid the groundwork for a successful transition). And the manner in which you do this could take time. And this blends into the third step.

Lead the Change

Leading the change means that you should help your church get a running start toward the new initiative. Take the time to preach a sermon series devoted to the issue at hand. When I led a church to change their small groups from being individual Bible Study based to being sermon-based (meaning that rather than small groups purchasing a Bible Study curriculum, the church offered small group material that coincided with the Sunday morning sermon), I did so after a 6-week sermon series on small-group discipleship. Ironically, during that sermon series, we put all of our small groups on pause. When I had finished the series, I had explained why small groups were so important, why we believed our church needed to move to a community-based rather than age-based model, and why we wanted all groups to be on the same page content-wise. Ultimately, by the time the series was finished, the entire congregation was chomping at the bit, ready to try the new model.

But that would not have happened had I just announced the change and proceeded without helping our church see the need, see the change as meeting that need, and sense that this was a joint-effort on the part of the entire congregation.

But leading the change doesn’t stop at implementation. It continues. It means that you are attentive to every detail. It means that you are receptive to feedback. It means that you offer every resource at hand to ensure that the change you hope to make succeeds.

Evaluate and Adjust

Early in youth ministry I came across a piece of leadership gold that I offer to almost everyone I talk to about ministry.

Call every change an experiment.

The Small Groups Experiment. The Second Service Experiment. The Never-Go-Alone Experiment.

Whatever it is, call it an experiment. By doing that, you communicate a level of humility to the congregation that they’re not used to seeing in a pastor. You’re acknowledging that you’re not wed to this (whatever “this” is) as a solution. You’re asking them to commit to this change for 6 months (or enough time to be able to determine its viability). After that time, you’re willing to sit down and consider the possibility that either the solution isn’t working, or needs adjustment.

You’ve communicated the need. The congregation sees what you see. Something is broken (or in disrepair) and needs to be fixed. It needs a solution.

You’ve cast the vision. The congregation can connect the dots from the need to this as the proposed solution. This program or change is the stuff that you believe will fill the hole.

You’ve led the change. You’ve walked them right up to the change and encouraged them to invest themselves into seeing it succeed.

Now, be open to the possibility that your solution needs a little adjustment. Be receptive to feedback. If you’ve taken these steps, most of the feedback will come from people who genuinely want this change to succeed.

They don’t like holes in the ground. They want it filled just as much as you do.

Do you have any suggestions? Drop them in a comment below.

Lately, I’ve found myself in that position where I’ve been praying for something specifically. Now, this is beyond regular prayer or daily prayer. This is that heavily-sighing, crying-out-to-God prayer that rises up from the deepest parts of the soul. And yet, when it comes to this prayer, God often just seems silent. I can see him at work and I can see him answer prayers . . . just not this one. And when I do, I am reminded that he does answer and he does work all things together for the good of those who are called to his purposes. And yet, my prayer seems to remain unanswered and my circumstance unaltered.

In these moments, I find myself at an impasse: I can either sink into the despair of feeling forgotten and overlooked, or I can fall to my knees in praise and gratitude for the Lord’s work on someone else’s behalf. But when prayer has already turned to groaning, let’s be honest:

Despair comes easier.

And that’s because gratitude is a choice. And it’s the choosing that can be so difficult when we believe that someone else’s prayer was chosen over our own.

Gratitude leads to joy

I had the opportunity to visit an elderly saint—a former professor at Southwestern Seminary who I have long admired—in his nursing home a few weeks ago. And in our conversation, we spoke of all that was taking place in the seminary and in the Southern Baptist Convention. But what stood out to me most was the gratitude with which he spoke of those who had come to visit him.

He appreciated their concern for him. He was thankful that they had found the time to go out of their way to visit. He didn’t share that with any sense of self-importance; nor did he communicate any frustration that he reduced by his circumstances and was no longer able to walk where he pleased or go where he desired. Instead, he expressed his gratitude with humble tears of joy.

I want to face my circumstances like that—with overwhelming gratitude and joy. I want to experience joy in the waiting. I want to celebrate with others when the Lord answers their prayers—even while I continue to wait on the Lord to answer my own.

Gratitude leads to perseverance

When we begin to believe that the Lord has forgotten us, or that he simply refuses to answer our prayers and petitions, we lose any encouragement to hold on to the hope that is ours in Christ Jesus. And, to be honest, it may be because we’re not looking for the joy found in the person of Christ; we may be looking for the joy found in our desired answer to our prayer.

But those willing to praise the Lord for someone else’s blessing are strengthened in their resolve to wait upon the Lord.

Those willing to rejoice with those who rejoice find their tears turned from longing to gratitude.

Those who can find the joy in someone else’s answered prayer are more likely to continue to serve the One who answers prayer—even as our own prayer seems unanswered.

Because rather than focusing our attention on our unanswered prayer, we set our eyes upon the One who answers prayer.

He has not forgotten you

There we sat, under the pine trees of East Texas, and as our time concluded, this saint of the faith leaned over, put his hand on my arm, and said, “You may feel overlooked and forgotten,” and at this, tears began to well up in my own eyes. And he reminded me of the truth I knew, but needed to hear: “but he has not forgotten you.”

May that encouragement be yours as well.

He has not forgotten you.

In a recent article published by the Religion News Service, Tara Isabella Burton introduces the Harry Potter series, writing:

It’s a book nearly everybody knows, many of us nearly from birth. We reference it in our daily lives. We use its complicated moral systems to define our social and political stances and to understand ourselves better. Once we have read it, and learn the lessons considered therein, our political attitudes alter, making us more welcoming and more caring to outsiders.
Activists quote from the stories on placards to make their points at protests. Hundreds of thousands—if not millions—of people have written their own narratives in response to these foundational myths.
I refer, of course, to the “Harry Potter” series.

She refers to the statistics that show that 61% of Americans have seen at least one Harry Potter film. That statistic juxtaposed with the mere 45% (a little more than 50% for US Christians) who can name all four Gospels is a bit shocking. She observes, “it’s no stretch to say that Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are better known in American society than Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.”

She offers a reason for the ubiquity of Harry Potter in that it was published during a time of a massive, earth-shaking transition. In the years before the publication of the first volume and the fourth, internet use increased 500%. So, she argues, the popularity of the fiction series resembles the Bible in that, just as the rise of the printing press enabled the Protestant Reformation to put Scripture in the hands of the masses, the Harry Potter books grew in prominence during a time when the masses were introduced to a new media—the world wide web.

And again, she’s not wrong.

Of course, she argues that this is the manner in which the Harry Potter “most resembles” the Bible. And that conclusion is where I must beg to differ.

In a 2007 article published in the Telegraph, J. K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series, acknowledged that they were inspired, in fact, by the Bible. Rowling, who was raised in the Anglican Communion, but now a member of the Church of Scotland, was quoted as having said, “the religious parallels have always been obvious.” In a different interview altogether, she made those parallels explicit, explaining that Albus Dumbledore is “John the Baptist to Harry’s Christ.”

She explained her reasoning for avoiding the question until the moment of her interview in the Telegraph (she had just released the final installment, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows) to her attempts to avoid spoiling the ending: “I never wanted to talk too openly about [the influence of the New Testament on the series] because it might show people who just wanted the story where we were going.”

So, the argument that the Harry Potter series resembles the Bible most due to providential timing ignores the most glaring parallel—one was patterned after the other!

So, when Burton concludes that the Harry Potter series has supplanted the Bible as the common mythological foundation of understanding for the new generations, Christians should take notice—if only for the purpose of considering her claim further. She presses her argument to conclude that, in light of the obvious fantasy and fiction that describes the Harry Potter series, “fewer and fewer of us need to believe in a text to take it, well, as gospel.”

The question that discerning readers should ask is, “Does her conclusion follow from her argument?”

In a world that fails to observe the author’s own declaration that her stories (creative as they may be) are patterned after the Gospel narrative, the historical similarity between the Reformation-era printing press and the advent of the internet age seems reasonable.

But, if we allow the author’s own admission to raise the issue, it becomes more clear why this story resonates with the new generations (and many from the older generations as well)—it is built from the pieces of the story of salvation. The elements in play over the course of Rowling’s stories reflect the light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Is it a simple re-telling? Obviously not.

But perhaps it resonates so clearly because it speaks to genuine needs and longings of the human heart. And the answer to those needs isn’t found in a book of spells, in the waving of a wand, or in the Room of Requirement. Harry Potter’s journey over the course of Rowling’s books (and movies) brings him from a childhood discovery of his place in the world to an encounter with evil that rescues a people with whom he identifies.

Perhaps it resonates so powerfully because it resembles so closely “the old, old story of Jesus and his love.”

For several years, I traveled a lot for work. I flew all over the country meeting with various Bible colleges, Christian universities, and seminaries. As such, I spent a lot of time on airplanes. And any time you fly, you inevitably have that awkward conversation as they pack you into seats made for people smaller than the average American.

First you offer your name and they respond with their’s. Then the question of whether you’re traveling for work or for personal reasons comes. And then, the question that always provides the most interesting responses. “So what do you do?”

And every time I’ve answered that I am a pastor, I’ve received quizzical looks. Apparently, I don’t fit the general image in most people’s minds as to what a preacher is supposed to look like. I don’t know if it’s the shaved head, the beard (I had grown it out quite long for a while and looked like a bald cousin from Duck Dynasty), or that I don’t normally wear a coat and tie, but almost no one has ever heard me say, “I’m a pastor,” and said, “I can see that.”

Images of the Minister

Even as we think of the images associated with ministry, we generally approach the task with a particular image or images that guide us in our day-to-day actions. Those who view themselves as shepherds or prophets or teachers or evangelists or spiritual gurus or life coaches or servant leaders will all approach ministry in distinct ways. The one who sees himself as a shepherd is more likely to spend extended time with his people and view time locked away in a study preparing for a sermon as wasted time.

The one who envisions himself a teacher is almost the opposite. He would rather study and read and prepare his sermons, viewing the preaching ministry as the best manner through which to love his congregants.

The same is true as we approach the more specific task of preaching. How we view ourselves as we approach the pulpit determines a lot about what we will value and choose in the sacred task.

Images of the Preacher

The Pastor

Those who view the preaching task as primarily pastoral in nature concern themselves with the care and needs of their hearers. As they approach sermon preparation, they are acutely aware of the needs of those in the congregation and they aim their sermon carefully to meet those needs. Their preaching is targeted first and foremost at life-change.

So, they begin with the need and seek to bring God’s Word to bear upon it—What does the Bible say about this particular need or that particular need?

Before moving on, I think it is important to note that this is not a bad thing in itself. Many of us can learn something from this image and be reminded of the importance of the congregation in our preaching. I’ve met too many young preachers that handle the text well and preach a good sermon, but fail to connect it with their hearers—whether that be by speaking over the heads of their congregation by using too much technical jargon or quoting from their favorite lexicon or by using illustrations that were clearly intended for another kind of hearer.

Ultimately, though, I fear that the emphasis of the image of pastor opens us up to a host of potential downfalls, most notably that it lends to the authority of the sermon residing in the preacher himself. He is the one who discerns the needs of the congregation. He is the one who determines which passages speak to those needs. And, in order to avoid potential conflict and/or hurt feelings, he is the one who may decide to avoid difficult or controversial passages of Scripture.

So while the image of the pastor has some points to keep in mind, ultimately, it can lead to drift because the Word and the preacher can come to exist for the sake of the congregant.

The Poet

In college, I thought the Lord had called me to music ministry. So I majored in music right up until I realized that I wasn’t being trained for the ministry—I was being trained to do music and ministry was merely the outlet for it. So, I flipped my major and minor and became a religion major with a minor in sacred music. I had a friend who wanted desperately to become a famous youth-evangelist. That was his heart. But it struck me as odd that he wasn’t a ministry or religion major. He was a speech communications major. As he informed me, he didn’t need the tools to rightly divide the Word—he felt he had those. He needed to be a better communicator.

My concern was that he might become a better communicator of the wrong thing!

There are some who are so excited about the preaching task that the sermon becomes the central component to their overall ministry. For them, the Word and the congregation exist for the sake of the sermon.

They love Rhetoric! They love books on crafting illustrations and coming up with just the right play on words for each point in the sermon. The Word is the tool he uses to craft the sermon and the congregation becomes little more than his audience.

You should study Rhetoric. You should learn to craft better illustrations and select just the right turn of phrase. But not for the sake of highlighting your own creativity. Instead, you should equip yourself to better communicate the word of the King.

The Herald

I will make it easy for you—I am convinced this is the proper image we should view the preaching task. Before there were newspapers and headlines, the herald was the one sent into the kingdom with the message of the king. When he opened his mouth, he spoke with the king’s authority because he was sent by the king with the king’s words. But that authority was derivative. His words only had authority as they communicated the words of the king.

He was entrusted with the message and charged with keeping the integrity of that message. And those who failed to maintain the purity of the king’s words did not keep their place long. They were sent as the emissaries of the king.

That, my friend, is the image I want you to have in mind as you stand and deliver het Word of God. You have been sent into your particular congregation with a message from God. But you don’t have to devise that message, discern the thoughts of the king. You have his written Word. And your task is to re-present that Word.

As such, Dr. Steven Smith used to say, we don’t preach sermons. We preach texts. The Word is the central component of the preaching task. The preacher is merely the mouthpiece; the congregation is the recipient of the Word and their’s is the responsibility to live in response to that message.

Now, I am not saying that the herald’s words are God’s words ex operato. The herald’s words are God’s words only as long as he faithfully and accurately presents them. Our God is a God who speaks. And we have the responsibility to speak his words after him.

In Jonah, chapter 1, we read that the Word of the Lord comes to Jonah and he’s instructed to go to Ninevah and preach against it. We all know what happens next. He goes the wrong way, away from Ninevah, gets swallowed by a great fish, and three days later vomited out on shore.

And then, in chapter 3, we read that the Word of the Lord comes to Jonah a second time. And this time, he is instructed to “call out against the message that I tell you.” The language there is unique in the Hebrew. The same root is used for the verb and the object.

The Lord is being decisively clear on this point. He’s saying, “Jonah, go to Ninevah and preach the proclamation that I am proclaiming to you. Speak the speech that I am speaking to you. Talk the talk that I talk to you. What I say, Jonah, you say.”

That’s what it means to be a herald.

One of the benefits of the image of the herald is that it gives confidence to the reluctant. We all know that ministry does not necessarily mean preaching. Preaching is a component of ministry. Preaching is a specific responsibility given to some ministers, but not all ministers preach.

Which means that some of you don’t feel called to preach. Some of you dread the thought of standing before a group of any size, opening the Bible, and preaching. That’s okay. The key is to communicate God’s Word faithfully and accurately. As long as you do that—and that’s what we’re here to work on—you are standing not in your own authority, but with the authority of the Lord.

For others, however, the idea of standing on a stage is a bit too enticing. Our pride yearns for it to be about us. And to be given such a platform and the image of having the authority of God?!

The image of the herald emphasizes the holy responsibility of the preacher. Each week, the preacher stands before a congregation with the sacred task of bringing God’s Word to bear upon their lives; this is no small thing. There is no greater task, nor a greater responsibility. In that moment, the congregation’s ears are attuned to the voice of the herald in order to hear what the Lord says.

Many preachers, however, fail to grasp the magnitude of this moment and this responsibility. Striving to gain an audience and seeking to endear the congregation to themselves, rather than to God, they toy with foolish remarks and playful stories. They play tricks with words and spin phrases that diminish the gravity of the proclamation.

Each time the herald of God opens the sacred text and speaks, eternity hangs in the balance.

Only the herald who bears the Words and the authority of the king feels the weight of the responsibility that accompanies that task.

We’ll be dropping our first vodcast soon. In it, we discuss what personal devotions are and, perhaps more importantly, what they’re not.

Stay tuned . . .

Yesterday, the presidential search committee of the trustees of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary announced their candidate for the ninth president of the institution—Dr. Adam Greenway. The trustees have called a special meeting, scheduled next week (26–27 February), for the purpose on voting for his candidacy.

At present, Dr. Greenway serves as the dean of the Billy Graham School of Missions, Evangelism and Ministry at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY. He is a graduate of Samford University, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary (MDiv), and The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary (PhD). Additionally, he earned a masters degree in nonprofit administration from the Mendoza College of Business at the University of Notre Dame in 2016.

His friends and colleagues speak very highly of his qualification and his character.

Dr. Paul Chitwood—the newly-installed president of the International Mission Board—said, “Both Adam and Carla love the Lord and walk in integrity before Him. Should the Lord call them there, the Great Commission and the local church will be front and center at Southwestern Seminary and I will be praying, ‘Thank you, Lord, for answering my prayers and the prayers of Southern Baptists by giving us one of your best to lead us!’”

Likewise, Dr. Albert Mohler—president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary—is quoted as saying, “I’ve had the joy and privilege of working with Adam Greenway for well over a decade now. He is a remarkable Christian with a demonstrated heart for ministry, a clear vision for theological education, and he represents all of the convictions and character that Southern Baptists look to in a national leader.”

In 2011, I published a series of posts expressing my reasoning for returning to seminary in general, and Southwestern in particular. My affection for Seminary Hill is well-known. I have been blessed with the opportunity to build deep friendships with many of my classmates and professors. After earning an MDiv in 2014, I completed the PhD program in 2018. Today, I have the honor of teaching on campus in an adjunct capacity.

And so, with an abiding appreciation for my alma mater and a desire to see her flourish into the future, I’d like to offer four things I think every Southern Baptist owes Dr. Adam Greenway should the trustees approve him as the ninth president of the seminary.

We owe him (and his family) our prayers.

Dr. Greenway will be taking on the responsibility of leading an institution that has faced various difficulties in recent days. Some will take that as an opportunity to cast blame upon the former president or the trustees—something I refuse to do, in part because I not find it neither warranted nor helpful. Rather than seeking to attach blame, it would be much more beneficial to offer our prayers on the new president’s behalf. Let us pray that the Lord will give him wisdom and discernment—that he will be empowered to make changes deemed necessary and prudent and that he will be strengthened to resist the throngs of those offering opinions and making demands without the requisite information.

Let us pray that the Lord will guard his heart and his family, There is not much greater responsibility than the oversight of thousands of men and women who will proclaim the gospel in churches across Texas, the United States, and the ends of the earth. And we know that those entrusted with the greatest responsibilities are the prime targets of the Enemy and enemies of that glorious gospel.

We owe him our encouragement and confidence.

As we should speak to our Father in heaven privately on Dr. Greenway’s behalf, we should also speak to Dr. Greenway (and of him) with words of encouragement. In the press release posted by the school of his candidacy, words of affirmation are offered by Mohler, Chitwood, O. S. Hawkins, and the chairman of the Presidential Search Committee, Danny Roberts. In coming days and weeks, may each of us offer our encouragement to Dr. Greenway as he takes the helm.

We owe him our availability.

It is one thing to offer encouragement. Doing so merely costs us words. But we owe the next president of Southwestern more than words. We owe him our availability—our readiness to step in and join him in the task of leading the school in whatever manner necessary. For some, that will entail an availability to send students. For others, that means helping encourage other Southern Baptists to fund the work of the seminary. For others still, it may mean special gifts or invitations to him to speak or anything else. That which is important is an availability and willingness to step into whatever gaps he identifies and needs us to fill.

We owe him our patience.

Southern Baptists have never been known to withhold our opinions. Yet, I’m reminded of James’s instruction, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger” (James 1:19, CSB). When a young pastor asks me what changes he should make during his first year at a church, I tell him to take the first 9–12 months as an opportunity to learn about the church and understand why they’re doing things the way they are. Any changes he chooses to make during that period are made without a good understanding. And yet, many new pastors feel the pressure to change something—to make an impression—during those first months. Often (not always, but often), that pressure comes from families in the church who have a pre-existing agenda and view the pastor’s first months as an opportunity to make their move. While a seminary is not a church, it is not unlike one in that manner.

Let us offer Dr. Greenway our patience as he settles into the President’s Office. Let us offer him the time necessary to discern the state of the seminary and to search the heart of God for the best way forward. That may very well take a different path than some of us (any of us?) believe it should. When it does, we owe him our patience.

We owe the next president of Southwestern our prayers, our encouragement and support, our availability, and our patience. The Presidential Search Committee of the trustees has made a unanimous selection. The trustees will vote next week. Should the Lord call Dr. Greenway to the office of the seminary president, may every Southern Baptist be willing to extend these four things to him.

Southwestern press release

Everything we know of God has been revealed to us by God. Humanity has not come to an understanding of who God is by its own efforts or study. Instead, everything we understand has come as the result of his own self-revelation. He is the God who speaks.

As we look at the world around us, we can see some evidences of God’s grandeur and majesty. How often have we stopped and marveled at the beauty of a sunset—whether that be over the ocean waves or the mountain-tops? How often have we shuddered to think of the terrific power of “natural disasters”—tornados, tsunamis, and hurricanes—which we categorize more properly as “acts of God?”

Each of us have an understanding of right and wrong, based on the power and conviction of our consciences. Intuitively, we know that hatred is wrong. We understand the value of human life. We have to be taught to ignore those instincts (and many of us are), but we are born with them nonetheless.

But it is important to recognize that we know nothing of the love and mercy of God apart from divine revelation. We may know that a god exists, but we do not understand his character nor do we know his name apart from his own self-revelation. We know nothing of the three-in-one, Triune Godhead apart from divine revelation. And we know nothing of the hope of our salvation apart from his own attestation. Eternity hangs in the balance of his voice and he is not silent.

In the Old Testament, he speaks into the empty void and brings something out of nothing. He calls out to Adam in the Garden and tells Noah how to survive the flood. He gives Abram his marching orders and calls Moses from the burning bush. He thunders from the mountain, shows his power in the whirlwind, and whispers in the silence.

In the New Testament, he sends his Son—the eternal second person of the Triune Godhead, the Living Word, and active agent of all creation—to clothe himself in humanity and live a sinless life. He preached the arrival of the Kingdom of God and died a sacrificial, penal substitutionary death, and rose on the third day defeating death, hell, and the grave granting eternal life to whosoever believes. His invitation lingers, “All you who labor and are heavy labor, and I will give you rest.”

Our God is a God who speaks.

And because our God is a God who speaks, his words—the form of his communication—the Living and Inscripturated Words—matter . . . and they move.

Notice that in Acts, as the church is born and begins to expand, the Word of God is seen as the active agent: “the word of God continued to increase, and the number of the disciples multiplied . . .” (Acts 6:7), and, “the word of God increased and multiplied” (Acts 12:24). Yes the Word is preached by the Apostles, but it is no mere passive instrument in the establishment of the Christian church.

As we approach the task of preaching, then, we must understand the centrality of our convictions concerning the Word of God in our doing so. That which we believe about the Bible will determine the manner and method of our preaching. If it is nothing more than a book of pithy moral teachings or a collection of mythological tales, the manner in which we approach the pulpit will follow and the Bible is nothing more than another collection of the stories of Zeus or Apollos or Odin or any other mythological deity.

But if the Bible in our hands is what it claims to be—the very Word and words of God—then the pulpit becomes the Sacred Desk and our task becomes a sacred task.

The Bible is inspired.

In 2 Timothy 3:16, Paul writes that all Scripture is θεόπνευστος (inspired, or literally, “God-breathed”). Of course this refers to the Old Testament writings that were read, studied, and taught by Jesus and the apostles during the New Testament, but it is extended to the New Testament as well. Peter wrote that in Scripture, “men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Pet 1:21). And Peter himself placed the words of his contemporary, Paul, on par with those found in the Old Testament, writing, “There are some things in [Paul’s writings] that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures” (2 Pet 3:16).

The Bible is not man’s words about God nor mere words about man’s interactions with God. The Bible’s source is the very breath of God. We have a God who speaks. And the Bible we hold in our hands is the very words and Word of God. And if it is God’s Word—breathed out by him, it must be inerrant.

The Bible is inerrant.

If the Bible is the actual words and Word of a holy and righteous God—himself the standard of perfection and glory—it cannot mislead, but rather must be “truth without any mixture of error.”

Lest there be any doubt in our minds, consider Jesus’s approach to the Old Testament. By all means, he considered the statements of the Old Testament as factual, chronological, and historical. Jesus compared his eventual death, burial, and resurrection to Jonah’s experience in the great fish (Matt 12:39–42). To cast the shadow of doubt upon the historicity of Jonah is to do the very same to the death and resurrection of Christ! Though he often corrected the interpretations of the religious leaders of his day, not once did he correct the words of the Hebrew Bible. Modern disputes as to the authenticity, dating, and authorship of the Old Testament were never hinted at in Jesus’s teachings.

If the Bible is God’s Word, it is inerrant. And if it is inerrant, it must also be authoritative.

The Bible is authoritative.

If the Bible in our hands contains the very words of God, it must therefore be true. God is not the author of confusion, but of order. Therefore, if God’s Word is inspired and inerrant, there is no other proper response apart from our submission to it. We are not called to correct or adapt the Word of God, but rather to conform our lives and doctrines to stand in accord with it.

For those who love theology—who love to read heavy, dusty books written by dead guys—that means that we dare not explain how this verse “fits” into our theological grid. But rather, we must show how our theological framework incorporates and adapts itself to the text of Scripture. We must be submitted to the text. The text is the authority because the text (and not our own interpretation) is without error.

The Bible is sufficient.

If the Bible is inspired by God and, as such, is absolutely true and trustworthy in all that it claims; and if the Bible is true in all that it claims and, as such, we must be submitted to all that is taught therein, then it must be sufficient for salvation and all that is necessary to live a life pleasing to God. The Scripture is all that has been given or needs to be given in order that we know the way of salvation and the path of obedience.

We do not need more special revelation. The canon is no longer open. Because while God still speaks, he does so through the preaching of his servants.

Martin Luther has written that “Every honest pastor’s and preacher’s mouth is Christ’s mouth, and his word and forgiveness is Christ’s word and forgiveness. . . . For the office is not the pastor’s or preacher’s but God’s; and the Word which he preacheth is likewise not the pastor’s and preacher’s but God’s.”

In like manner, John Calvin stated, “When a man has climbed up into the pulpit . . . it is [so] that God may speak to us by the mouth of a man.”

To be clear: the preacher’s words are not God’s words ex opere operato. Just because it is stated from the pulpit does not stamp the authority of God upon it. The preacher’s words are God’s words only as long as they are faithfully and accurately proclaimed.

Conclusion

Our God is a God who speaks, and preachers of the gospel—those tasked with the accurate and faithful proclamation of the Word of God—are the means by which we still hear his voice. Such a task—proclaiming God’s very words—should cause the preacher to tremble under the magnificent weight of his responsibility. Nevertheless, the preacher must stand confident that the Holy Spirit will overcome the failures and faults of such a brittle mouthpiece. The One who has given us this sure Word will ensure that it does not fail.