Category: Articles

After Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51) and began to count the days to His arrest and crucifixion, the Gospel of Luke tells us of three men that He and His disciples encountered “as they were going along the road” (9:57). We don’t know who these men were, nor do we know what their history with Jesus was. But we know that they were at a moment of decision: Would they follow Jesus, or would they go home again?

Each of these three men received a striking word from the Lord, and it quickly became apparent that to follow Jesus involves cost. The discipleship that Jesus demands is neither a kind of loose affiliation nor a marginal interest from the periphery. It means the sacrifice of our comforts, our pleasures, and even our most precious relationships for the sake of God’s kingdom.

The Eager Would-Be Disciple

The first man Jesus encountered was eager: “As they were going along the road, someone said to him, ‘I will follow you wherever you go.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head’” (Luke 9:57–58).

When people see a crowd, it’s easy to get caught up in the action. Our emotions can run away with us, leading us to make commitments we don’t fully understand. Of course, Jesus deserves such a commitment. That in itself is not wrong. But a spur-of-the-moment promise is not the same thing as Christian faith.

To follow Jesus involves cost.

Jesus says to this man, in effect, “If you think you’re going to follow Me wherever I go, you should know where I’m going.” There is a cost to following Jesus. It is not a pleasure cruise. In fact, it means giving up many of life’s “fleeting pleasures” (Heb. 11:25).

When Jesus said this, did He forbid home ownership (or pillows) for all of His followers—or, as His answer to the next man will suggest, funerals? Does His answer to the third man contradict Paul’s teaching about caring for family members (1 Tim. 5:8) or remaining faithful to unbelieving spouses (1 Cor. 7:12–13)? Absolutely not! Jesus often gave answers tailored to the individual and the situation, and this is no exception. His days were numbered, and He was on His path to the cross. The events to come would quickly turn back the would-be disciple.

Yet these words are recorded in Scripture for the benefit of all Christians, and they have something important to teach us: We do not walk in the footsteps of Christ expecting worldly comforts to be the result. In fact, we ought to expect the opposite. Given that, will we follow the one who has “nowhere to lay his head”?

The Responsible Would-Be Disciple 

The first man had been a volunteer. The second was a conscript. As with Peter and Andrew, James and John, and the rest, Jesus extended His personal invitation: “Follow me” (Luke 9:59). Those earlier disciples had “immediately left … their father and followed him” (Matt. 4:22). But this man said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father” (Luke 9:59).

The man’s father may not have been dead. He may have been forty-five and expecting to live another thirty years, so that the man was saying, “I have a life to live with my family first. I have a responsibility to care for my father.” In modern parlance, one might say to Jesus, “If I follow You now, my father would go right through the roof. My wife will go completely nuts. My children won’t make it to their soccer practice.”

To such a sentiment Jesus replies, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead” (v. 60), telling the man that he should not let the fact that his family won’t follow Jesus prevent him from becoming a disciple himself.

Perhaps more likely, though, the father really was dead. The delay would be only a few days, and the matter was of extreme urgency. If that is the case, then Jesus, in a dramatic and chilling call, made it perfectly clear that following Christ is even more urgent. When the call comes, even the most pressing and intimate family responsibilities must take second place.

The Sentimental Would-Be Disciple

The third man said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home” (Luke 9:61). This is not so momentous a need as a family funeral, nor does it constitute much of a delay. It seems to be a reasonable request—and Jesus’ answer again seems harsh by contrast: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (v. 62).

In other words, neither something as momentous as the death of a loved one nor something as quick as a simple goodbye must be allowed to interfere with what it means to follow the Lord Jesus Christ. What matters most is not the nature of the excuse but the fact of it. The offending words in this case were “but … first ….”

Genuine Christian discipleship leaves no room for excuse, no room for compromise, and no room for half-heartedness.

Jesus tells the man that no one ever plowed a straight furrow while looking back over his shoulder. In the flight from Sodom, Lot’s wife failed by looking back (Gen. 19:26). In the flight from Egypt, Israel failed by looking back (Ex. 16:3). So, too, if we have decided to follow Jesus, we must be ready to say, “No turning back, no turning back.”¹ Genuine Christian discipleship leaves no room for excuse, no room for compromise, and no room for half-heartedness . We must guard against feeling a surge of emotion and supposing that to be as good as actually setting out on the path of obedience.

Pilgrim’s Flight

John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress begins with a memorable scene that may help us to understand Jesus’ answers to the three men. In the allegory, the man who will be called Pilgrim, and later Christian, hears that he may be free of his burden of sin and death by setting out on a journey. His response is dramatic:

The man began to run. Now he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on crying, Life! life! eternal life! So he looked not behind him, but fled towards the middle of the plain.

Did he not love his wife and children? Of course he did! Yet the salvation of his soul was of greater urgency than any family tie. (Indeed, in the course of the story, it will mean the salvation of his family too.) It is this sense of urgency that confronts a man or woman when the call comes from Jesus: “Follow me.”

Jesus Christ died on the cross as a sacrifice for sin, and God raised Him from the dead as a pledge of new life for all who believe in Him. He calls on everyone to turn from sin and honor Him as Lord. Do you believe? Will you follow? Or will you say, “But first…” This very night, your soul may be required of you (Luke 12:20). Do not delay!

This article was adapted from the sermon “Following Jesus” by Alistair Begg.

1. Simon K. Marak, “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus.” ↩︎

Imagine the hands of thirteen men at the Last Supper—twenty-six hands passing the bread, passing the cup, running fingers through hair, wiping crumbs from beards, one moment on the lap, the next on the table.

Jesus then remarks, “Behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table” (Luke 22:21). The hands immediately slip back.

These words, spoken at what Jesus knows to be His last Passover meal, send a shock through His twelve disciples. Each man looks around at every other. Which one of them did He mean? There were so many hands there that evening!

A Mystery

If we have read the Gospel of Luke from the beginning, we already know the culprit: “Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor” (Luke 6:16). It had already happened that “Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve. He went away and conferred with the chief priests and officers how he might betray him to them” (Luke 22:3–4). Through all of history since then, Judas’s name has been mud, and few people today read of his betrayal with any surprise.

Yet to eleven of the men at that table, it was a surprise: “They began to question one another, which of them it could be who was going to do this” (Luke 22:23). It doesn’t say, “And all eyes turned to Judas.” They hadn’t a clue! Judas was adept at hiding what was going on inside. He had moved in their company and managed to disguise his treachery from those who were nearest and dearest to him.

It’s very easy for us to hide from one another. It’s very easy to disguise what’s going on in the heart. We may assume that we know each other very well, but who really knows the thoughts of a man or a woman except the spirit that is within them? (1 Cor. 2:11).

A Solemn Reminder

Judas’s deceit is a solemn reminder that we can fool each other, and we can fool ourselves. Jesus warned the disciples that there will be those at the last judgment who will be able to say to the Lord, “We ate and drank in your presence, and you taught in our streets,” yet he will say to them, “I tell you, I do not know where you come from. Depart from me, all you workers of evil!” (Luke 13:26–27).

The issue at the heart of being Jesus’ disciple is not whether we like sermons, attend talks, or are members of a church. The real issue is whether there has been a genuine encounter with the living God in the Lord Jesus Christ. Tragically, there will be some in our churches to whom the Lord will say, “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know where you are from.”

Judas was adept at hiding what was going on inside.

Paul described this dynamic to the leaders of the Ephesian church: “I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them” (Acts 20:29–30; emphasis added). In other words: “The danger isn’t just from those outside your group; it is from those inside who have the right language and show up in the right places at the right time, but they are still slaves of sin. They will prey on the brothers and sisters. It may be you.”

A Deliberate Attention

The solution to this predicament is not paranoia and mutual distrust. It is to “pay careful attention” (Acts 20:28), to “take heed” (KJV), to “keep watch” (NIV). Pay attention to what? “To yourselves and to all the flock,” says Paul. This is why the oversight of godly elders in a local body is crucial. It’s why the scrutiny and accountability of church membership is necessary. It’s why the teaching of biblical doctrine is indispensable. It’s why church discipline is merciful. And, of course, it’s why each man and woman must cry out in the secret place,

Search me, O God, and know my heart!
 Try me and know my thoughts!
And see if there be any grievous way in me,
 and lead me in the way everlasting! (Ps. 139:23–24)

On that historic night, two hands on the table night belonged to a traitor who had traveled with the Lord but whose heart loved the world. Two other hands belonged to the Savior, soon to be nailed to the tree. Twenty-two belonged to those who would be found covering their faces as they huddled in their hiding places.

Yet in the mercy of God, the twenty-two would again grasp the plow as they looked forward to the Lord’s promise of the kingdom: “You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel” (Luke 22:28–30). How would they do this? By clinging in faith to the Lord who bought them with His blood, by walking in the power of the Spirit who sanctified them, and by keeping careful watch of themselves.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Betrayal” by Alistair Begg.

 

John 17 gives us a glimpse into Jesus’ prayer life—the Son praying to the Father for the disciples who are immediately present and for all those who would later believe.

In verse 15, Jesus prays for His disciples’ preservation. Then, in verse 17, He prays for their sanctification: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth” (John 17:17). In the space of just nine words, Jesus teaches a great deal about the doctrine of sanctification. The word “sanctify” in this verse is related to the word holy. So while the text reads, “Sanctify them in the truth,” we might also say, “Make them holy in the truth.”

When a Christian asks, “What is God doing in my life?” the answer, based on Jesus’ prayer in verse 17, is simple: By the power of the Spirit and the Word, God is making us more like His Son, Jesus. That’s the work of sanctification.

Using John 17:17 as a starting point, we can define the doctrine of sanctification biblically and then establish how this work is displayed in a believer’s life.

Sanctification Defined Biblically

In the Old Testament, places, people, priests, utensils, buildings, etc., were often described as “holy.” That is, they were set apart from one use to be set apart for another. For example, a bowl used for rituals in the temple was set apart for a specific purpose in the framework of God. (See, e.g., Exodus 25:29).

When we see the word “sanctify,” we should think of it in terms of being set apart for use in the service of God. It is the process of being made less like ourselves and more like Jesus.  It’s the work of renovation.

Indeed, sanctification is the fruit of being set apart in Jesus. It is distinct from justification—the act of God declaring sinners righteous on account of His Son’s finished work—but the two are closely related. While we can distinguish between justification and sanctification, we cannot divide them. The only people whom God justifies are those whom He sanctifies. Declaring us righteous, God then makes us righteous.

We might say it this way: The grace that sets us apart to God is the same grace that makes us increasingly like God.

Sanctification Displayed Progressively

Looking at the doctrine from a different angle: Sanctification is a matter of degrees. Believers can’t be more or less justified. The declaration of righteousness God makes is legal and external. But we can be more or less sanctified. Sanctification is a lifelong project.

C. S. Lewis offers a helpful metaphor in Mere Christianity:

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of—throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.¹

In sanctification, God chisels us into the image He has intended. He cuts off useless pieces, realigns disproportionate elements, smooths out the rough edges—all with the loving purpose of greater holiness.

But as soon as we enter into that new dimension, we realize we brought with us our old fallen nature—that part of us that still loves sin. Sanctification is a kind of conflict: our old nature still clinging on, our new nature striving toward Christlikeness. The Christian is simultaneously sinner and saint, a rebellious child yet adopted into God’s family.

Sanctification is a lifelong project.

And sanctification takes time. The process is full of triumphs and trials this side of eternity. Specifically, we can look for God’s renovating work in at least three ways.

First, God sanctifies us mentally. “Do not be conformed to this world,” Paul urges the Christians in Rome, “but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Rom. 12:2). Our minds are constantly bombarded by input from outside of us—from podcasts, emails, videos, music, etc. Mismanaged, these influences can become hindrances to God’s work in our minds.

Second, God sanctifies us physically. From our heads to our feet—our words to our actions—it is the Father’s purpose to redeem our bodies and their works for His glory, as temples fit for the Spirit to take up residence (1 Cor. 6:19).

Finally, God intends to sanctify us totally. Paul prays for the Thessalonians along these lines: “Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely” (1 Thess. 5:23). We can be confident of God’s work in us when we have less and less to hide from Him—fewer doors in our hearts shut off to His rule.

Sanctification Discovered Submissively

Importantly, Jesus prays for His disciples to be sanctified “in the truth” of God’s Word. The Father uses His Word, applied in the Spirit’s power, to make us more like His Son. When we open our Bibles, we read the very words of God—the Son sent into the world from the Father to speak the Father’s words, the Son then giving His words to the apostles to preach, and the apostles, under the Spirit’s guidance, inscripturating those words for later generations.

There are two main ways we experience sanctification in the word of truth. First, we experience it personally, through activities such as daily devotions, regular Bible-reading, and Scripture memorization. J. C. Ryle comments, “Believers who neglect the Word will not grow in holiness and victory over sin.”² Why? Because sanctification occurs “in the truth,” not apart from it.

The grace that sets us apart to God is the same grace that makes us increasingly like God.

Yet sanctification through God’s Word is not only private but corporate. The reason preaching always should be central to worship is because God has chosen the proclamation of His Word as one of the main means through which He works. We experience the sanctifying work of God in preaching in a way unlike any other. It’s perhaps for this reason the author of Hebrews exhorts the persecuted church not to forsake meeting together (Heb. 10:25)—for it’s in the meeting and listening that God sanctifies us.

At the beginning, we asked the common question “What is God doing in my life?” The answer we find in John 17:17 is as clear as it is thrilling: He is sanctifying you! The Father wills it. Jesus prays for it. The Spirit applies it. And we get to experience it.

For those of us in Christ, we are being transformed into His image, whether we can sense it or not. God is renovating the lives of those He has justified. And one day, when we see Christ, the building project will be complete. We will be just like Him (1 John 3:2).

This article was adapted from the sermon “‘Sanctify Them’” by Alistair Begg.

1. C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, bk. 4, chap. 9. ↩︎

2. J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels: St. John (New York: Robert Carter and Brothers, 1878), 3:200. ↩︎

Prayer is essential to the Christian life. Some of us take a more systematic approach, writing down requests and scheduling time for focused communion with the Lord. Others of us are more spontaneous, bringing our requests to God as they come to mind and throughout the day.

No matter our approach, we would do well to add a vital but often neglected prompt to our routines: praying for our pastors. There might be specific needs our pastors have for which we can pray. But even if we don’t know the particulars, we can pray generally for them, using Paul’s final charge to Timothy as a guide: “As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry” (2 Tim. 4:5).

This brief exhortation outlines four ways you can pray for your pastors.

1) Pray He Would Be Sober-Minded

Paul instructs Timothy to “always be sober-minded” in his ministry—or, as the NIV has it, “Keep your head in all situations.” Pastors need their people to pray that they would remain grounded no matter the task at hand.

Pastors always face two great challenges. On the one hand is the danger of becoming puffed up with pride because of undue praise; on the other is that of becoming discouraged because of unhelpful criticism. An anonymously written piece about “the perfect pastor” gives a sense of just how hard daily ministry can be for ministers:

Results of a computerized survey indicate that the perfect pastor preaches exactly fifteen minutes. He condemns sin but never embarrasses anyone. He works from 8:00 a.m. until midnight and is also the janitor. He makes sixty dollars a week, wears good clothes, drives a new car, and gives fifty dollars a week to the poor. He is twenty-eight years old, has been preaching for twenty-five years, is wonderfully gentle and handsome, loves to work with teenagers, and spends countless hours with senior citizens. He makes fifteen calls daily on parish families, shut-ins, and hospital patients and is always in his office when needed.

If your pastor does not measure up, simply send this letter to six other parishes that are tired of their pastors too. Then bundle up your pastor and send him to the church at the top of the list. In one week, you will receive 1,643 pastors, and one of them should be perfect.

While this bit of writing is meant to be humorous, its description isn’t too far removed from the reality of unrealistic, inconsistent expectations people often have for pastors. Only one man can meet every congregant’s expectations—and it isn’t the pastor. It’s Jesus.

We must pray for our pastors to keep their heads in all situations.

2) Pray He Would Endure Suffering

Next, Paul addresses the issue of suffering in ministry. No doubt, pastors in the first century faced serious hardship, from threats of Roman persecution outside the church to dangerous false teaching within. No matter the specific trial, it’s crucial that pastors in every generation neither court suffering nor complain about it but that they learn to endure it.

Pastors always face two great challenges: pride because of undue praise and discouragement because of unhelpful criticism.

Consider the work of preaching, for example. We may not think of sermon preparation and delivery as suffering per se, but there is a degree of hardship associated with the task. Paul has already established the seriousness of preaching in 2 Tim. 4:1–2: “I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.”

What a task! Even if we’re unaware of the particular conflicts our pastors face week to week, the ordinary demands of ministry are taxing. We should therefore pray that they keep on.

3) Pray He Would Do the Work of an Evangelist

Paul continues, urging Timothy to engage in the task of evangelism, or sharing the good news of Jesus. This work is perhaps among the most neglected of all in pastoral circles. Tied up in the demands of pastoral care and preaching, many pastors push evangelism to the side.

Uniquely, ministers must do the work of evangelism within the context of pastoring. They aren’t in the marketplace working secular jobs, so to speak. But rather than excuse him, Paul doubles down, saying to Timothy, “No matter your pastoral privileges and duties, see to it that you are also engaging the lost with the Gospel.”

We should pray for God to burden our pastors for the lost—that our leaders would be pastoral evangelists, committed with Paul to winning as many men and women as possible to Christ (1 Cor. 9:19).

4) Pray He Would Fulfill His Ministry

Finally, Timothy is to fulfill his ministry. The phrase essentially means, “Don’t quit, but see it through to the end.” Paul envisions a long-term ministry for Timothy and for pastors after him. He wants for Timothy to be able to say at the end of his life what he said at the end of his own: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7).

Our pastors won’t necessarily be able to reflect on their ministries and say, “I’ve been brilliant,” or “I’ve been tremendously successful.” But that isn’t what we are to pray for them. Brilliance and success aren’t the goal. A faithful walk with Christ till the end is. We should pray that our pastors remain committed to Christ and His Word, discharging all the duties of their task.

We should pray for our pastors to be evangelists, winning men and women to Christ.

Using 2 Timothy 4:5 as a starting point, would you commit to diligently, systematically, and faithfully pray for your pastor? You don’t need to know all the details of his life. Rather, irrespective of his circumstances, pray for him to be sober-minded, endure suffering, evangelize the lost, and fulfill his ministry.

This article was adapted from the sermon “A Prayer for Pastors” by Alistair Begg.

 

In Mark 4, Jesus tells a parable in which a farmer sows seed in his field. As he scatters, the seed falls on four kinds of soils: on the path, on rocky ground, among thorns, and then on good soil (vv. 3–8). The sower in the story, as verse 14 makes clear, is the one who declares God’s Word, beginning with Jesus and extending to faithful Bible teachers in every age. Jesus’ parable teaches that whenever God’s Word is faithfully proclaimed, it is met with different kinds of responses.

As we consider each of the four soils and how they’re instructive for us, we should remember God’s promise through the prophet Isaiah. The material in Isaiah 55:10–11 almost certainly informed Jesus’ parable in Mark 4:

  As the rain and the snow come down from heaven
 and do not return there but water the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
 giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
 it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
 and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

In short, no matter the response people have to the Word when they hear it, God always accomplishes His purposes through it. His Word never returns empty.

The Parable Explained

In Mark 4:13–20, Jesus explains to the Twelve how the Word works from the vantage point of the sower and then in terms of the soils.

The Sower

In the immediate context, “the word” refers to the teaching of Jesus in Galilee. In particular, it is His proclamation of the Gospel—the good news—as in Mark 1:15: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe the gospel.”

The people at the time were thrilled in anticipation of the coming kingdom. They expected something dramatic. And in the course of Mark’s opening chapters, as Jesus was demonstrating the powerful coming of the kingdom, people had responded in numerous ways—some believing, others opposing. The parable of the seed and the soils summarizes these responses. As the Gospel is sown, Jesus reminds us, the kingdom inches closer to its fulfillment.

Whenever the Bible is faithfully proclaimed, it is met with different kinds of responses.

We can learn a lot from how Jesus taught the truths of the kingdom. Commenting on Jesus’ distinctive approach, Archibald G. Brown says, “Jesus pitied sinners, pleaded with them, sighed over them, warned them, and wept over them; but never sought to amuse them.”¹

The application for Christians, and especially those who preach and teach on various levels, is clear: Our job is not to entertain but to do the hard work of a farmer, faithfully scattering the seed of the Gospel.

The Soils

The soils in the parable represent the various responses people have to the Word.

First, Jesus describes the response of those seeds sown along the hard, beaten path of a person’s heart (Mark 4:15). This group hears the Gospel and shows fleeting, superficial interest, but they ultimately prove impervious to it, Jesus’ words bouncing off of their hearts like rain on a tin roof.

Indeed, whenever the Word of God is sown, the activity of the Evil One is present. It’s Satan who—sometimes directly, usually indirectly—snatches the seed before it can ever take root in some people’s hearts. And his work is usually subtle. It may be a voice in someone’s head saying, “You don’t need this,” or “This would change too much and be too hard.” Being taken away, there’s no hope for the seed’s growth.

The second kind of soil is the “rocky ground,” where there is no depth (vv. 5, 16–17). Although the seed springs up quickly, it has no roots, eventually withering in the heat. This is the person who receives the Word with an apparently immediate, joyful heart. It may even be followed by a quick baptism and ministry involvement. But something happens along the way. Trouble comes. Persecution comes, by way of the Word, and they fall away—instant bloom, instant fade.

Third, there’s the thorny soil in verses 18–19. In this instance, internal pressures and divided loyalties frustrate the Word’s growth in a person, bearing no fruit. Jesus lists three factors that choke out the Word: the worries of life, the deceitfulness of wealth, and desires for other things. Importantly, it’s not only things that are inherently bad that may keep us from receiving the Gospel. It may be good things—a love of sports, concern for our family’s well-being, and so on—that steal our affections that belong to God and lead us away from zeal for Christ. These lesser goods, if managed foolishly, can become thorns, imperceptibly and inevitably choking the life out of us.

Finally, there is the heart represented by the “good soil” (Mark 4:20). This group hears the Gospel, accepts it, and bears fruit. They are those Jesus speaks of in John 15:5: “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

Make no mistake: The hearing of God’s Word in and of itself will do nothing until He enables us to accept it, bow down under it, and believe it. But when God’s Word is received in humility, it makes a lasting impact. This person prospers in trial, holds up in storms, and endures to the end.

The Parable Applied

When we reflect on the different kinds of soils Jesus describes in the parable, we can probably think of individuals we know who would fit into each group. Some hear the Word and prove disinterested; others seem to embrace the Gospel but eventually reject it on account of hardship; and still others show initial zeal for Christ that is later choked out by the thorns of life. Discouraged by these responses, we may wonder, “Why all this waste?”

Hearing God’s Word in and of itself does nothing until we accept it, bow under it, and believe it.

But at the heart of Jesus’ parable is a lesson we can’t afford to miss: God has pledged Himself to fulfill all the purposes for His Word (Isa. 55:11). We may not see it immediately or even in our lifetimes, but the promises He’s made concerning the Gospel and His kingdom will come to pass. God has watched over His Word throughout history, seeing His people through the Dark Ages, the Cultural Revolution in China, the Covenanting times in Scotland, and so on. We can be confident that the same God who accomplished His purposes then is accomplishing them today.

While we sow Gospel seed, we must also pay attention to the condition of our own hearts. God’s people are simultaneously sowers and soil, sharing and hearing God’s Word. If we do not humbly accept the Word of God planted in us, it will not help us. It will harden us. To sit under God’s Word preached week after week without responding in faith and obedience is a dangerous prospect. We’ll eventually lose interest, drifting away and bearing no fruit.

And so we heed the exhortations of Scripture: “Pay attention to what you hear: with the measure you use, it will be measured to you, and still more will be added to you,” (Mark 4:24) and “Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Ps. 95:7–8; Heb. 3:7–8; 3:15; 4:7–8).

This article was adapted from the sermon “The Seed and the Soils” by Alistair Begg.

1. Archibald G. Brown, The Devil’s Mission of Amusement: A Protest (1889). ↩︎

In medicine, certain vital signs—breath in the lungs, a pulse felt on the wrist, movement in the eyes—show that a person is alive. The same is true in the church, spiritually speaking: If a local body is truly alive, a few indicators will make it easy to tell. Where these vital signs are present in a congregation, they prove that Jesus Christ is in fact the head of that body.

Peter, writing to the churches scattered throughout the Roman Empire, lists four vital signs against which the believers are to measure themselves (1 Peter 4:8–11). Lively churches—in the first century and throughout all ages—are those that possess love, hospitality, service, and praise.

Love Above All

Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. (1 Peter 4:8)

The apostle is concerned in this verse to stress love’s priority and sincerity. Using language that assumes Christian love is already present in the churches, Peter instructs believers to “keep loving one another.” Of course, his command isn’t anything new. It’s built on the very words of the Lord Jesus to His disciples: “Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34).

Peter doesn’t want us to view this love as some form of drudgery. He wants love to be undeniably present in the churches, which ought to be defined by people loving each other “earnestly.” The Greek word (ektenē) carries the sense of strenuous activity, like how an Olympic runner springs from the blocks at the outset of a race. In other words, the love described here isn’t some kind of mushy expression grounded in emotion. It’s eager love, sincere love, quality love.

We can’t evade this challenge, especially in light of Jesus’ teaching: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). As we think about our own church bodies, we ask, “Would curious onlookers know that we love Jesus based on how we love one another?” That’s the implication of Peter’s instruction.

A great reason for this love comes in the second half of the verse: We love because “love covers a multitude of sins.” This doesn’t mean that love sweeps sin under the carpet, nor that love avoids confrontation. It instead means that love is ready to forgive and forgive again. Love finds a way to return a silent answer in the face of fury unleashed against us. “Love,” Paul writes in the great chapter on the subject, “is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast” (1 Cor. 13:4).

Sincere Hospitality

Show hospitality to one another without grumbling. (1 Peter 4:9)

The second vital sign for the body of Christ is hospitality, which is itself an expression of love. Hospitality is love in action. We know we possess genuine Christian love when we reach out to others, sharing what we’ve received.

Certainly, our churches need to be gymnasiums, training people for the rigor of spiritual warfare; they should be schools, instructing members in Christian doctrine and living. But here, Peter reminds us that churches are also hospitals, providing spiritual care in a society overwhelmed with fear, emptiness, and suffering. Love expresses itself in hospitality­—in churches whose members open both their hearts and their homes for the hurting. Peter essentially tells the churches, “Be prepared to disrupt your daily routines in order to show hospitality. You’re always on call. You are to stand ready to embrace the traveler.”

A simple expression of hospitality has the power to change lives.

And just as our love is to be earnest, so our hospitality is to be sincere, done “without grumbling.” This goes against our natural tendencies, no doubt. We grumble when we’re inconvenienced. The only way we’ll view hospitality as a Christian privilege is to recall the words of Christ as He reminds His followers that even the most basic forms of hospitality are directed ultimately toward God, not toward man (Matt. 25:31–40).

A simple expression of hospitality has the power to change lives. Almost any Christian can make a home the kind of place that has one extra seat at the table for the lonely student, the recent widow, or the young professional. And who knows but that those who sit at our tables today may one day end up sitting around the table in God’s great kingdom?

Service for Others

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 God supplies. (1 Peter 4:10–11)

Practical Christian service emerges from two facts, according to verse 10.

First, Peter emphasizes that we all have received spiritual gifts. No one is without gifts in the body of Christ. We may not have tons of gifts or even possess the gifts we think we ought to have. But the principle stands: We are empowered with spiritual gifts, apportioned to us by God Himself.

Peter describes the gifts given to Christians as the result of “God’s varied grace.” God’s gifts, in other words, are multicolored, like what we find in a rainbow or in a flower garden—various hues intermingling with one another to create a cohesive whole. The church is a lot like that, with God putting all kinds of graces side by side. In the church, the whole is greater than the individual parts. 

No one is without gifts in the body of Christ.

Second, the apostle reminds us that we serve as those who are gifted for the sake of others and not ourselves. The gifts of God’s Spirit aren’t toys to be played with; they are tools used for the sake of encouraging others and glorifying God.

Continuing in verse 11, Peter divides the gifts into two groups: there are those who speak and those who serve. Of course, speaking is a form of serving. But the point in Peter’s classification is to distinguish between gifts that primarily use words and those that primarily use deeds—between relevant instruction and practical kindness. The church needs both to be healthy.

Those who speak, we’re told, are to do so as stewards of God’s very words. That is, preachers and teachers shouldn’t draw attention to themselves. They aren’t primarily storytellers but heralds of divine truth. And for those gifted for service, Peter reminds them of the source of their strength: It isn’t found in themselves but in the power Christ provides.

Praise

… in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 4:11)

It’s fitting that the final vital sign Peter lists is praise, for the church exists for the praise of God’s glorious grace (Eph. 1:6).

There is a logical flow of thought from verse 10 to verse 11: When we serve in God’s strength for the purpose He intends, it produces the praise He deserves. Viewing the church’s activity within the framework of praise affects how we go about our living. If we exist for God’s glory, then our service will be both modest and strenuous, recognizing the weakness of “me” and the strength of “He.”

While it’s true that we may add to the list of vital signs for a church body, we can’t take away from those Peter lists here and expect our fellowships to be lively. Love, hospitality, service, and praise are practical evidences of a church’s union to the living God.

If we want these signs to be present in our congregations, we won’t be able to muster them ourselves. We need “grace and peace … multiplied” to us (1 Peter 1:3). And thankfully, in Christ, we have the privilege of being able to take that prayer of Peter’s and make it our own!

This article was adapted from the sermon “Vital Signs” by Alistair Begg.

“Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets” (Heb. 1:1). But, the book of Hebrews tells us, the situation has changed. God’s Word has come to us in its fullness not as a series of propositions or promises but as a person: “In these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (v. 2). In Jesus Christ, presented to us infallibly in the Scriptures, God essentially says about Himself and His eternal plan, “Here is My final word. There is nothing better to say.”

That is why Hebrews 2:1 tells us, “We must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.” What is it that “we have heard”? It is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which the author of Hebrews has summarized for us in the opening of his letter. Hebrews 1:2–3 gives us five details about the Son that demand our attention, consideration, and meditation.

1. Jesus Is the Heir of All Things

In these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things. (Heb. 1:2)

From all eternity, the Son has had the promise of an inheritance. It is evident from the beginning of His life on earth. The angel told Mary about Jesus, “The Lord God will give to him”—that is, as His inheritance—“the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end” (Luke 1:32–33).

At the end His ministry, in John 16:15, Jesus affirmed the scope of this inheritance: “All that the Father has is mine”—in other words, everything! As the hymn says,

He owns the cattle on a thousand hills,
The wealth in ev’ry mine;
He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills,
The sun and stars that shine.¹

And this same heir of all things, the hymn writer reminds us, cares for us. To know Jesus Christ is to share in the promises and blessings of this inheritance (Rom. 8:17).

2. Jesus Is God’s Creative Agent

In these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, … through whom also he created the world. (Heb. 1:2)

Paul says of the Son that “all things were created through him and for him” (Col. 1:16). And John affirms that “all things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made” (John 1:3). So not only is everything to be placed in the Son’s hand, but actually, He was involved in it all in the first place. Everything that is and was and will be has come through Him and is destined for Him.

In Jesus Christ, presented to us infallibly in the Scriptures, God essentially says about Himself and His eternal plan, “Here is My final word. There is nothing better to say.”

There is no truth that does not have its origin in the Son. No scientist, no historian, no poet has ever said or done anything outside the bounds that the Lord Jesus set for them before time began. He is the starting point of the world and all we can know about it.

3. Jesus Displays God’s Glory

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature. (Heb. 1:3)

God’s “glory” is the visible expression of His presence. Moses asked to see God’s glory on the mountain (Ex. 33:18). This is the same glory that the apostles saw in the face of Jesus Christ: “We have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).

When we see what the Son is like, we see exactly what God is like. That’s why when Philip repeated Moses’s request—“Lord, show us the Father”—Jesus answered, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:8–9). The true and the full character of God is made open and clear to us in the person of Jesus.

4. Jesus Upholds the Universe

He upholds the universe by the word of his power. (Heb. 1:3)

The Son, in His role as Creator, was not a watchmaker who wound the earth up and let it go. No, the same powerful word that created something out of nothing actually keeps the creation going. “In him,” Paul says of the Lord Jesus, “all things hold together” (Col. 1:17).

There is no truth that does not have its origin in the Son.

Jesus’ miracles reveal this cosmic reality as through Him, the power of God breaks into the course of normal events. It took only a word for Jesus to calm the storm on the Sea of Galilee, just as it had taken only a word to create the Sea of Galilee. In awe, the disciples asked, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41). He is the very one who “upholds the universe by the word of his power.”

5. Jesus Purifies and Petitions

After making purification for sins he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. (Heb. 1:3)

Because He upholds the universe, it is also in the scope of Jesus’ power to uphold His creation—the pinnacle of which is humanity, made in the very image of God. Most remarkably, He this did by “making purification” on the cross. At a moment in time, the creator of time “bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Peter 2:24).

Jesus’ humanity was a necessity, but His divine identity made this purification possible and totally effective. A priest of the old covenant “stands daily at his service, offering repeatedly the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins” (Heb. 10:11). But Jesus “has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself” (Heb. 9:26)—an incomparable sacrifice.

Furthermore, unlike the priests of the old covenant, Jesus “is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them” (Heb. 7:25). There will never be a day when He ceases to intervene on our behalf, putting His righteousness before the Father and attributing it to all who believe in Him as Lord and Savior. There will never be a day when we cannot draw near to God in full assurance of faith (Heb. 10:22).

Pay Attention!

In a pluralistic, syncretistic world, we may be tempted to say, “Whatever works for you!” But the Scriptures have not left that path open to us. God’s final Word has come to us in the person of His Son.

“Therefore,” the writer to the Hebrews reminds us, “we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard” about this Jesus. When we feel ourselves beginning to drift away, we must lift our eyes again to God’s glory revealed in God’s Son, who will inherit all things, who made us, who sustains us, who saved us, and who keeps us.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Heed These Warnings” by Alistair Begg.

1. John Willard Peterson, “He Owns the Cattle on a Thousand Hills” (1948). ↩︎

“Dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh” (Col. 2:13) is not the most pleasant way to describe someone’s past. This, however, is precisely the diagnosis that Paul gave the believers in Colossae. The Colossians had been sinners against God, deserving His just punishment; and they—like the Ephesians—had been “strangers to the covenants of promise” (Eph. 2:12) in which the Jewish people found hope. In other words, the Colossians needed forgiveness but had no obvious expectation of receiving it. They were as good as dead and in need of a radical intervention.

And yet “you,” Paul adds, “God made alive” (Col. 2:13). The intervention came—not from human beings but from God Himself, who stepped in to correct the problem. The Colossians were not saved by finding religion. They weren’t saved by a new philosophy. They were not saved even by good works. God saved them, forgiving their sins and bringing them to life spiritually.

How did God do this? As Paul goes on, he explains what God has done in three pictures.

The Slate Wiped Clean

Paul begins with the picture of a slate wiped clean, a canceled record of debt—in the words of the King James Bible, “blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us”:

You, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. (Col. 2:13–14)

In Paul’s day, people wrote on papyrus or vellum, and the ink they used was not permanent. It could be wiped away. It was possible to take a sponge and wipe a record clean.

God has a law that is expressed in His Word and reflected on the human conscience—even on the consciences of those who never heard the law (Rom. 2:14–16). Every human, except for Christ, has disobeyed the law and accrued a vast debt of guilt. A day is coming when God will settle the accounts.

But, Paul says to the Colossians, our debt of sin is like an IOU that God takes and tears up. Christ has paid the debt, settled the account, and disposed of the record. And this is what happens for all who believe in Christ and put themselves in His hands. We have no power to clear the debt ourselves, but He will do it for those who come to Him in faith.

The Record Nailed to the Cross

Paul’s second picture recalls the notice that was nailed to the cross when Jesus died, declaring that the reason for His execution was that He was “The King of the Jews”: “This he set aside, nailing it to the cross” (Col. 2:14). In God’s providence, that placard proclaimed that He was dying in the place of the people and for them—and not for Jewish sinners only but for all sinners (Eph. 2:14–16).

Our debt of sin is like an IOU that God takes and tears up.

As Paul says elsewhere, “For our sake God made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). The believer’s debt is eradicated because on the cross, Jesus Christ paid the debt. He suffered the punishment for our sins, and He allowed us to have all the credit of His own righteousness.

The hymn writer put this eloquently in “It Is Well with My Soul”:

My sin—oh the bliss of this glorious thought!—
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more.¹

The cross, far from being a place of despair and defeat, has become a place of joy and triumph for those who believe. It is there that Jesus took sin on His own shoulders and made it possible for us to receive life and forgiveness through faith.

The Triumph over the Enemy

Finally, Paul offers the picture of victory: “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him” (Col. 2:15).

Jesus triumphed in the cross. He dealt with the forces of evil arrayed against Him and against God’s people. Satan is an accuser who wants men and women to die in their sins. At the cross, however, he has been struck down. He is not yet annihilated, but he is certainly and irrevocably defeated and humiliated.

The cross, far from being a place of despair and defeat, has become a place of joy and triumph for those who believe.

A Roman triumph was a parade in honor of a victorious general. The general would lead a procession displaying the trophies of his victory, not least of all his vanquished foes, stripped and chained. The people would look on and say, “There’s nothing to fear from those soldiers anymore—not after what our general has done to them.”

That is the picture Paul employs. Christ has won the victory; the forces of evil have been, are being, and will be put to shame. Therefore, the Christian can say,

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.²

When we place our faith in Christ, the devil may still lash out at the conscience and accuse us, making us doubt our standing with God. We can say, “My Lord Jesus has wiped the record clean. You cannot accuse me. Christ has paid my debt, He has born my sin, and He has defeated you.” Because for the believer, sins are forgiven, the slate is wiped clean, that old stack of debt has been nailed to the cross, and the enemy has been disarmed.

This is good news! And it is good news for those who will come to Christ in faith, rejecting sin and putting their destiny in His hands. Anyone—male or female, young or old, Jew or gentile—may come to Him and say, “Dear God, thank You for sending Your Son to do for me what I could never do for myself. I admit that I am sinful. I believe that Jesus died in my place. I come with empty hands and a needy heart, and I ask You to transform my life and make me the person You intend for me to be.”

This article was adapted from the sermon “Triumphant Forgiveness” by Alistair Begg.

1. Horatio Gates Spafford, “It Is Well with My Soul” (1873). ↩︎

2. Charitie Lees Bancroft, “Before the Throne of God Above” (1863). ↩︎

A story is told that one year at the Summer Olympics, three men hoped to get into the stadium as spectators: an Englishman, an Irishman, and a Scotsman. Standing outside the stadium with no tickets in hand, the three noticed a construction site nearby and got creative.

Neville Atkinson, the Englishman, found a piece of piping that had been part of the scaffolding. He approached the stadium gate, pipe in hand, and said, “Neville Atkinson, United Kingdom, pole vault.” The gatekeeper responded, “Wonderful, come on in.”

Intrigued, the Irishman, Sean O’Leary, looked around and found a manhole cover. Carrying it under his arm, he reported to the gatekeeper: “Sean O’Leary, Ireland, discus.” “Fine,” he said, “right this way.”

And then there was the Scotsman, a man named Jack MacTavish. Searching for his ticket to entry, he dragged some roles of barbed wire to the gate entrance: “Jack MacTavish, Scotland, fencing.”

This humorous anecdote reminds us that the place and conditions of entry are important—and nowhere more so than at the entry into the kingdom of heaven. The New Testament tells us that much. Jesus, teaching His disciples in Matthew 7, says that we should “enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few” (vv. 13–14).

When Jesus talks about entering by the narrow gate, He has our salvation in view. But what does it look like for a person to obey His instruction and lay hold of eternal life? How can a person be saved?

Conditions of entry are important—and nowhere more so than entry into the kingdom of heaven.

There is probably no better passage to answer this question than Paul’s instruction in Ephesians 2:1–10. Here, the apostle teaches that by nature, we are dead and cannot make ourselves alive; by nature, we are enslaved and cannot free ourselves from the handcuffs of sin; and by nature, we are blind, having no remedy in ourselves to see (vv. 1–3). “But God,” on account of His mercy and love, makes dead men and women spiritually alive. He saves us not because of our works but for good works. Our salvation, Paul stresses, is by grace through faith in Christ (vv. 4–10).

Simply put, Ephesians 2 describes the Christian experience as a personal experience to be laid hold of by repentance and faith. We must be those who enter by the narrow gate. It’s a personal decision for which everyone is responsible.

Objections to Our Need

Ephesians 2:1–10 shows men and women to be in a dire predicament. The apostle Paul states clearly that we need to be saved from our sin—an unpopular truth in today’s economy of ideas, no doubt. In response to biblical teaching, people raise a number of objections.

For example, someone might say, “It’s abhorrent for Christians to suggest that anybody needs to be saved!” This line of thinking argues that people don’t need to get saved because humanity is already on agreeable terms with God. But John, writing in his first letter, responds, “Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life” (5:12).

God saves us not because of our works but for good works.

Others say something like “Won’t I be accepted by God if I simply try my best and clean up my act?” Attend church, be a good neighbor, and pay the bills on time—that’s what the Lord requires, someone says. But like the first objection, this one doesn’t square with Scripture. Isaiah, writing in an earlier time, teaches that even “all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment” before Almighty God (Isa. 64:6). The radiance of God’s purity is so great that even when we are at our best, we still look dirty. 

Plenty of other objections and arguments abound. But better education, social welfare, medical care, etc., do not resolve humanity’s predicament before God. Those things are like bandages, only temporarily covering up the bleeding. But these can never be permanent solutions. Since sin is a personal problem that has spread to all mankind, salvation must be a personal experience.

Personal Repentance and Faith

The only way a person can be saved is by turning from sin and turning to Christ. We are either on the wide path or on the narrow path, to borrow Jesus’ language from Matthew 7. We’re heading toward either everlasting destruction or eternal life. There is no neutrality with Jesus. The call of Christianity is “You are on the broad path that leads to death. Turn around and follow Christ, and there you will find life.”

To repent means to turn from sin. It’s to do an about turn, determining to live in light of Christ and His mercy rather than for self and for our own selfish ends.

The only way a person can be saved is by turning from sin and turning to Christ.

As Ephesians 2:1–3 makes clear, we are by nature going in the wrong direction. Those of us who are honest for more than five minutes know that we’ve turned our backs on God and His design. We aren’t the husbands and wives we ought to be. We aren’t the kinds of employees we ought to be. We think bad thoughts and resent others. In short, we know what it is to sin, because we’re sinners. Jesus calls us to forsake all of that.

Having turned from sin, we then turn toward Christ. Repentance and faith are two sides of the same coin, both part of the one act of conversion. When we turn to Christ, we receive from Him all that He purposes to give us. Jesus died on the cross to take our sin, bearing it Himself so that we might be forgiven. This gift is given to us not because of what we’ve done but on account of what Jesus has done for sinners on Calvary.

In receiving Christ with repentant and faith-filled hearts, we acknowledge Him to be the ruler of our lives. He saves us not to ride along in the back seat of the car but to take the driving seat. We reorient our lives around Him and His priorities, saying no to old friendships and habits that dishonor Him.

Make no mistake: Christianity is a personal matter—but it’s not a private one. To follow Christ on the narrow road is a choice everyone must make. For every one of us, there is a crossroads decision concerning the claims of Christ.

If you’re asking the question “How can I be saved?” you need not overcomplicate it. The same is true if you’re trying to explain the answer to an unbeliever. While not everything in the Bible is easy to understand, the path to eternal life is crystal clear: Turn from sin, and look to Jesus. “The kingdom of God is at hand,” says Jesus; so “repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15).

This article is adapted from the sermon “How Can I Be Saved?” by Alistair Begg.

If we are going to stand in the ranks of Christ’s army, we cannot be naive about the battle in which we fight. The same grace that reconciles us to God antagonizes us to the devil.

But God has not left us empty-handed. He has equipped us for the fight. And so we do not dress casually, but we put on the outfit that Paul describes in Ephesians 6: “Take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm” (v. 13).

As Paul said in another place, “the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh” (2 Cor. 10:4)—that is, not things made of cloth or metal to put on our physical bodies. What, then, has God given us for the spiritual battle in which all Christians find themselves engaged?

The Belt of Truth

Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth… (Eph. 6:14)

For the Roman soldier, who was the epitome of military prowess in Paul’s day, the belt was the foundational element of a piece of armor. The other pieces were attached to the belt and were secured by it.

To wear the belt of truth is to recognize the importance of truth in an objective sense: “the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation,” by which the Holy Spirit adopts and seals us (Eph. 1:13). It is God who saves us, and to depart from the Word of Truth delivered to us in the Gospel is to abandon our Commander in Chief, to undermine our faith, and to make useless the whole kit that God has given. 

But there is also a subjective element to truth—that is, our truth telling: “Having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another” (Eph. 4:25). The Christian is not afraid of the truth but brings all things out into the light, where Christ may shine on them and bring newness of life through the Gospel (Eph. 5:13–14).

The Breastplate of Righteousness

… and having put on the breastplate of righteousness… (Eph. 6:14)

The breastplate, secured by the belt, protects the center of the body. For the Christian, righteousness protects us. And as with the belt, there is both an objective and a subjective dimension.

First and foremost, our objective righteousness before the judgment seat of God is the Lord Jesus Christ: “For our sake [God] made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). In our union with Christ, we have a standing with God that the enemy cannot threaten, and we have no reason to fear the wrath of God.

Subjectively, we are also to live out that righteousness in all our days and all our decisions. If we declare ourselves to be truly in Christ and yet live unrighteous lives, we will be susceptible to every temptation. But what God has done for us in Jesus enables and quickens us to a life that pleases Him, guarding us from the snares of sin.

The Shoes of Readiness

… and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. (Eph. 6:15)

A significant part of the military prowess of Roman armies came down to good footwear. Well-fitted studded boots provided traction, allowed for long marches, and provided an advantage over poorly shod enemies.

The Christians shoes are “the readiness” stirred up by “the gospel of peace.” Isaiah had proclaimed, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news” (52:7). Paul himself was “eager” to preach the Gospel because of the grace and salvation that it brings to those who hear and believe (Rom. 1:15).

Wherever we go, whoever we are, we have an opportunity, in word and deed, to proclaim the Gospel. Having buckled on the truth belt and donned the righteousness breastplate, we cannot neglect the shoes by which we go and proclaim what God has done. No, we are to take on the whole armor and, in so doing, proclaim the Gospel!

The Shield of Faith

In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one… (Eph. 6:16)

Roman soldiers were equipped with a large shield, more than a meter high and nearly a meter wide, which a group of soldiers in formation could use to protect themselves from enemy arrows. Arrows carrying flaming pitch would strike the leather-bound shields and would shortly be extinguished.

The Evil One is an accuser. He fires the flaming darts of false guilt with great rapidity and skill. Yet we can take up faith as our shield as we remind ourselves of the truth that girds us together:

From whence this fear and unbelief?
Hath Thou, O Father, put to grief
Thy spotless Son for me?
And will the righteous Judge of men
Condemn me for that debt of sin
Which, Lord, was charged on Thee?¹

As darts of temptation fly our way, we may “resist …, firm in the faith,” knowing that “the God of all grace … will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish” us (1 Peter 5:9–10). As we set our hope in Christ and the Gospel, we can walk securely in righteousness through His power at work in us.

The Helmet of Salvation

… and take the helmet of salvation… (Eph. 6:17)

The Roman soldier’s helm was cast from bronze or iron. Nothing short of an ax or a hammer could pierce it. It was a source of security for one of the most vulnerable parts of the body.

We have security through the Gospel of Jesus Christ that the devil cannot penetrate. “I give them eternal life,” Jesus promised regarding His disciples in all ages, “and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:28). To know that we are in Christ is to know that we are safe in the hands of the Savior, whatever evil may befall us in this world of trouble (John 16:33).

As we experience the hope offered to us by this promise, we can again resist the Evil One. As Martyn Lloyd-Jones put it,

When you are attacked, besieged, tried, tempted, and the devil says, “There is nothing in it, you might as well get out of it, Christianity makes false promises, it does not fulfil them—give up!”, you answer by saying, “No, I have not been led astray by this teaching. I have always known that there are steps and stages in salvation. I know that I am saved, I know that I am being saved, I know that ultimately I shall be completely saved.”²

The Offensive Weapons

… and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. (Eph. 6:17–18)

Finally, we leave the armor behind, and we come to the offensive elements of spiritual warfare.

The Word of God strikes many people today—much like a medieval sword in a Scottish museum—as historically interesting but practically useless. “Surely,” they say, “you don’t believe that book, do you?” But we do believe it, and we have reasons to trust it. We know that it is “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:16–17). And we remember that the Lord Himself turned to the Scriptures when it came time to counter the enemy’s temptations (Matt. 4:1–11; Luke 4:1–13).

To depart from the Word of Truth is to abandon our Commander in Chief, to undermine our faith, and to make useless the whole kit that God has given.

Paul sets the Word alongside prayer. They always belong together. The devil is unafraid of prayerless proclamation. As Paul himself wrote, “The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Cor. 3:6). It is as God speaks to us through the Word that we will find power to overcome the Evil One. The Scriptures are not a talisman with which to ward off evil; they are a tool God has given us to bring us to Him, where we can listen to His voice and draw on His power for a life of faith.

“The Panoply of God”

In one of Wesley’s old hymns we find these lines:

Stand then in His great might,
With all His strength endued,
And take, to arm you for the fight,
The panoply of God.³

A panoply is a full suit of armor, not lacking in any part. If we are to take our stand against the Evil One, we cannot neglect one piece of the kit—not the readiness of the Gospel, not the Word, not prayer, nor any other. We must wear it all so that we may be ready for every offensive that comes our way. We will succeed when we give ourselves over in trust to our faithful God, who by His Spirit guards us for the day of redemption.

This article was adapted from the sermons “The Full Armor of God” and “The Soldier’s Weapons” by Alistair Begg.

1. Augustus Montague Toplady, “From Whence This Fear and Unbelief?” (1772). ↩︎

2. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, The Christian Soldier: An Exposition of Ephesians 6:10 to 20 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1977), 320. ↩︎

3. Charles Wesley, “Soldiers of Christ, Arise” (1742). ↩︎