The Awesome Power of The Word

Not long ago I heard an entertainer-type give his testimony, telling his story of how he was brought to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ. He had almost zero exposure to Christianity or scripture until he was 30-ish, when a friend suggested he should read some of the Bible. He chose at random, and read Ecclesiastes. Then he read it again, and again. Solomon's writings cut him to the core, laying low his pride and self-righteousness, and exposing his absolute need for a savior.

RC Sproul has half-joked that he may be the only person in history who was saved through the preaching of Ecclesiastes 11:3: "Whether a tree falls to the south or to the north, in the place where it falls, there will it lie." Read more of the story of his conversion here.

I was a freshman in college, thinking I was saved because I went to church a lot when I was a kid, but completely lost. I was hypocritically involved in a Christian group on campus, because hey, what better way to soothe my conscience after a week of wanton sin? I was reading the Bible for some reason, got to Ephesians 4:17ff, and was crushed. This passage describes the night-and-day difference between those who are reborn in Christ and those who remain dead in sin, and there was absolutely no doubt which group's description I fit. At that point the choice was to repent and come to faith in Christ, or walk away entirely; either way, continuing to pretend was not an option. Thankfully, God raised me and brought me to faith.

What do all these vignettes have in common? In each case, someone was brought to repentance and faith through scripture that will never be described as evangelistic. I mean, Fred Butler will write Jar Jar Binks fan fic before someone puts Ecclesiastes 11:3 in an evangelistic presentation. Every evangelism class will have you learn Ephesians 2:8-9, but I can't imagine one having you learn Ephesians 4:19. Yet these passages, being the Word of God, are fully capable of convicting of sin and the need for Jesus, the only Savior.

"All Scripture is breathed out by God" (2 Tim 3:16) - and as our Arminian friends uncritically say, all means all. And this scripture, as Paul says, is "the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus" (2 Tim 3:15).

The Word of God is powerful. Preach it.

Jesus Don't Care About Your Feelings

If you've been a Christian for long, you've probably heard something like this before. Someone points out that X is a sin, and an objection is raised that saying so makes people who engage in X feel really bad. A Christian responds with any of a number of correct analogies - a doctor hurting your feelings by saying you have cancer or are on the verge of a heart attack, drill sergeants breaking down recruits to make them good soldiers, a personal trainer insulting you to get you to lose weight, warning people to get off the trains to concentration camps, etc. All of these share a common theme - the goal is so important, obstacles must be smashed, even if that involves hurting your feelings in the process. It would hardly be 'loving' for a doctor to spare your feelings and never tell you that you're a fatty fat fatty and need to lose a bunch of weight, so you die of a massive heart attack at 27. Similarly, it's not loving to let someone coast to hell - even with self-esteem intact - because you didn't want to hurt their feelings by confronting their sins and idols that separate them from Christ.

Like I said, you've probably heard something like that before. But something I've heard a lot more recently is the idea that Jesus would never hurt someone's feelings. So if you're willing to call X a sin even though it makes X-lovers feel bad, you're being un-Christlike. This is supposed to trump the argument without needing to address it - since, you know, the argument is fairly obvious and universally acknowledged in any other sphere of life, and to try to counter it would be plainly silly. So instead we get the ultimate trump card - Jesus wouldn't do that, so why do you?

The big problem with this objection is that it's demonstrably untrue. When someone is in danger of hell, Jesus is all too willing to hurt their feelings, to expose the sins they're the most ashamed of, and to crush the idols that keep them from faith and repentance.

Consider the twin evangelistic encounters of John 3 and John 4. In the first, Jesus confronts Nicodemus, a teacher/scholar and one of the most educated and powerful men in Israel, and essentially calls him a worldly-minded ignoramus. In the second, he cuts through the Samaritan woman's political/social/theological banter by going straight to confronting her promiscuity. Nicodemus was no doubt crushed to have his ignorance exposed, and the Samaritan woman was obviously ashamed that he knew the truth about her. In both cases, it was necessary to destroy their idols and walls, because they were keeping them from seeing Jesus and being saved. So he did what was necessary to get their attention, despite how it would make them feel, because the stakes were way too high to do otherwise.

Even more directly, consider the astonishing encounter in Luke 11. First, Jesus unleashes a series of condemnations against the Pharisees. A lawyer heard what Jesus said, and thought it maybe hit a little too close to him and his kind. He pointed this out to Jesus: "Teacher, in saying these things you insult us also.” Now surely, if our objector is correct, Jesus would stop to explain that he didn't want to offend anyone, maybe even apologize for any offense taken. But what did Jesus actually say? “Woe to you lawyers also!" And then he launched into a series of condemnations of them as well. Far from backing off to make sure nobody's feelings were hurt, he went out of his way to make sure they didn't miss the insult!

Were there times that Jesus cared about how people felt? Sure. When someone was hurting, such as Mary when her brother Lazarus died, he wept with her and comforted her. And that's when we should care about feelings as well. People who are hurting are to be comforted and helped. But defiant rebellion against God is not to be pampered - it is to be confronted and repented of, lest it last until it is ultimately crushed. That is what Jesus did, and so must we, if we want to love as Jesus loved.

The Blessed Miracle of Utter Failure

Have you ever noticed how the mission Jesus initially gave to his first disciples is the same as the mission he gave the church right before his ascension? Jesus is all about making disciples, true worshipers of God throughout all the world. From the call of the sons of Jonah and Zebedee, to the last words he uttered on earth until his glorious return, the mission is unchanged.

So it seems fitting that one of Jesus' great miracles would be repeated at each end of his earthly ministry. Luke 5:1-11 and John 21:1-14 contain the same basic story, although in different contexts. In one case he had just come on the scene and was starting to call people to himself, in the other his devoted followers were trying to figure out what the resurrection meant and answer the all-important question, "So, now what?" But both miracles were essentially the same: professional fishermen spent all night fishing in the Sea of Galilee without catching a single thing, Jesus told them to throw the nets out once more, and the catch was completely overwhelming. In both cases, the disciples immediately recognized this as nothing less than the power of God.

Until recently I was inclined to think of the miracle as the huge catch, and indeed I've often seen it referred to as the "miraculous catch" or something similar. But I think the miracle actually starts much earlier - how in the world could these guys fish all night in those waters and catch nothing?

I had the privilege to go to Israel a few years ago, and spent a little time around the Sea of Galilee (which is really not that big of a lake). The first thing that jumped out was the fish - literally, actually. This lake was absolutely teeming with fish everywhere. The first night walking close to the shore, they were jumping up from the water. They were so tightly packed in there that you could have thrust your hand in and had a decent chance of grabbing one. A child with a handheld net could swipe it through the water and have a pretty good catch rate.

I can't imagine professional fishermen casting a net measuring a couple hundred square feet into the water and pulling up nothing. Doing it once would be a real head-scratcher. Doing it again, and again, and again, and again, and again.... all through the night, all through the best fishing times, over and over and over and over... All this, all night, dozens of casts, throwing out bait, trying new spots, trying again and again until they were beyond exhausted, seeing fish by the thousands swimming down there, practically jumping into their boats - and not a single fish landed in their nets. Not even one.

This utter failure could not be natural. This was the setup for a miracle, but it could easily be classified as a miracle itself. The two parts go together: first the longest, most miserable and frustrating night of fishing ever, an epic fail if there ever was one. Then, a single cast into the same water brought more fish than they can handle. The combined effect was powerful - Jesus, who made it happen, must be divine. And not one fisherman involved could possibly have believed the result was due to his own mad skillz.

That last part is especially important to remember in light of what would happen merely weeks after the second event. Peter, who had been a recipient of both miracles, would deliver his first sermon. What was the result? "So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls."

Peter had fished for men, and had enjoyed unimaginable success on the very first attempt. Could he possibly imagine that this tremendous work of God was due to his own skillz? Of course not. Rather, he could attribute all the success to the one who was truly deserving.

"As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies - in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen." (1 Peter 4:10-11)

And I hope the lesson isn't lost on us. We could believe that success in ministry will be a result of our own awexomeness, and act like it, finding all sorts of ways to help the gospel out with our wisdom and clever tactics. Or we could believe that success is by Christ's power and blessing, and minister faithfully how he commanded.

Question On Dealing With Cultists

This weekend we got a visit from some Jehovah's Witnesses. Occasionally we'll get some Mormons and representatives from other cults to stop by. So it got me to thinking, what's the best way to deal with them? I can think of three basic options.

1) Just get rid of them as fast as possible. Say you don't want to talk to them, make excuses, just don't answer the doorbell, etc.

2) Apparently the J-Dubs were busy this weekend, since they also visited my pastor. You can hear his method here, starting at about 7:00. (Go ahead and listen to the rest of the sermon too, there's hardly a better use of an hour.) Basically he let them know right up front that he knew who they were and what they believed, pronounced Biblical judgments on them unless they repent, and drove them out of the neighborhood.

3) The third option would be to engage them in conversation, letting it be clear that they are under condemnation according to scripture, and taking the opportunity to present the gospel as clearly as possible. Make it clear that you don't regard them as Christian brothers, but as people in need of salvation from God's wrath. They think they're recruiting you, but instead you hit them with gospel truth.

I'd like some input on which is the best approach. I think we can safely say that #1 is the least optimal - there are very few occasions where I'd recommend just getting rid of them. There have been times I've used #2 and #3 and I can see the strengths of both, but I'd like to figure out if one is generally superior to the other.

So what do you think?