What it looks like to lead biblically

One of our adult Sunday school classes recently went through the new Art of Marriage DVD series.  It’s generated some good conversations.  A few weeks ago we looked at biblical roles for husbands and wives.  As I’ve thought through this material, it has forced me to face the reality of what leading biblically really looks like.  It doesn’t come naturally to me, and I don’t think that’s just because I’m fairly passive by nature.  Being a natural leader would not make me a naturally biblical leader.

As I’ve wrestled with what it really means (and doesn’t mean) to lead, ten things have come to mind.  These are things that I need to remember as I try to lead within my family and within my church.  I think they apply to leading in any context, but they’re mainly a needed corrective for me.

What does it look like to lead biblically?

  1. It is not the same as leading in a democracy.  A democracy allows those who are ignorant of their own best interests to vote into authority leaders who promise to cater to their self-destructive inclinations.  I don’t mean that a democratic form of government is unbibical; I mainly mean that the point of biblical leadership is not to make sure you get voted back into office.
  2. It is not the same as trying to keep everyone happy.  In the series we’ve been watching, Russell Moore has observed that in the case of husbands, biblical leadership is not doing what makes your wife happy.  It’s doing what will make your wife happy twenty years from now.  Those aren’t just two different questions; they represent two categorically different approaches to leading.
  3. It takes the kind of work required for careful planning and initiative.  This is true for everyone.  Nobody leads well by accident.  Really understanding what’s best for others requires dedicated attention.
  4. It requires a humble willingness to receive input from those who have not put in the work required to lead.  When I have put in the kind of work described above, I often expect my ideas to be readily appreciated and accepted.  But the fact that I’ve thought about things doesn’t mean (believe it or not) that I know everything.
  5. It includes removing the filter of my desires from my evaluation of the best interests of others.  It is in my kids’ best interests, for example, to obey their parents.  But my functional motivation for leading them toward obedience often has a lot more to do with my convenience than with their long-term good.  It’s easy to assume that if I’m trying to help someone else do what’s right, then I’m right in trying to help them do it.
  6. It involves knowing those I’m leading.  If the horse I’m trying to lead to water (in hopes that he’ll drink) turns out to be a bull, I’m going to be ill-prepared for the process.
  7. It requires a humble willingness to acknowledge when my decisions have been incorrect or ineffective.  Leadership involves judgment calls.  Those judgment calls are often based on a complex set of incomplete information.  They’re also controverted by the selfish motivations that lie so close at hand.  So I should expect that sometimes I’ll make the wrong call, and be wary of the pitfalls caused by defensiveness and self-pity.
  8. It includes a willingness to strategically give up control.  Shepherds may not like sheep poop, but they’ll have to put up with it if they’re going to focus on effectively guiding their flock.  Going OCD on this one will always end badly.
  9. It has to be aimed at a bigger goal than the vindication of my own leadership.  Much as this principle should go without saying, this one probably hits the hardest for me.  If people like the way I lead, their appreciation is a distracting enough bonus for me that I don’t naturally stop to consider whether they’ve actually benefited from my leadership.  The converse is true as well – if people are critical of my leadership, I’m tempted to give up, regardless of what my giving up might cost them.
  10. Its specific shape will differ according to who is leading.  My leadership, even when it is fully biblical, will probably look different from the biblical leadership of someone who is naturally energetic and practical.  That’s OK, as long as it is characterized by #1-9 above.

Preaching the Gospel to my Irritations

I have noticed in recent weeks an increasing willingness to complain about things that irritate me.  I don’t go on and on (I don’t think), and I don’t regularly lose my temper.  But when something happens that I don’t like, my reflex is to groan, or grunt, or make some other manly noise that’s supposed to let me whine without sounding whiny.

I’ve realized that when this happens, there’s something other than the gospel that’s filtering my responses to the little details of life.  I suspect my bad filter includes the assumption that things should move along for me in a way that is convenient and pleasant.  Of course, that’s neither realistic nor biblical.

Realizing that I should anticipate a spectrum of hard things is somewhat helpful, but I need more than that in order to really “count it all joy” when I encounter a variety of trials that seem mundane and unnecessary.  LIKE LEAVING YOUR BIKE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GARAGE WHEN IT BELONGS IN THE SHED.  What I really need when this happens is to preach the gospel to my irritations.

Here’s a short list of what I’m trying to tell myself as I work to retrain my habits of thinking and responding.  Everything in this list starts with “I don’t like this, but…”:

  • I deserve far worse.
  • Jesus endured infinitely more for me.
  • This is temporary.
  • God will work it for my good.
  • This gives me a rewardable opportunity to serve.
  • This provides me with a real-life opportunity to trust God’s promises.
  • God cares for me, and is altogether aware of how this inconvenience affects me.
  • Jesus promised trouble in this life, and this is one more reminder that his promises are trustworthy.

Spurgeon: Better Farther On

I’ve been reading Spurgeon’s Faith’s Checkbook recently. It’s a great tool for regularly reminding myself of the gospel and its implications.  I was particularly struck by his entry based on Nahum 1:12:

There is a limit to affliction.  God sends it, and God removes it.  Do you sigh and say, “When will the end be?” Remember that our griefs will surely and finally end when this poor earthly life is over. Let us quietly wait and patiently endure the will of the Lord till he cometh.

Meanwhile, our Father in heaven takes away the rod when His design in using it is fully served. When He has whipped away our folly, there will be no more strokes. Or, if the affliction is sent for testing us, that our graces may glorify  God, it will end when the Lord has made us bear witness to His praise. We would not wish the affliction to depart till God has gotten out of us all the honor which we can possibly yield Him.

There may today be “a great calm.” Who knows how soon those raging billows will give place to a sea of glass, and the sea birds sit on the gentle waves? After long tribulation the Rail is hung up, and the wheat rests in the garner. We may, before many hours are past, be just as happy as now we are sorrowful. It is not hard for the Lord to turn night into day. He that sends the clouds can as easily clear the skies. Let us be of good cheer. It is better on before. Let us sing hallelujah by anticipation.

Killing Pride by the Hope of Glory

“For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” – Romans 8:20-21

When Satan tempted Eve in the garden, he offered her two things:  freedom and glory. He offered her the ability to do whatever she wanted, and to look amazing to everyone who saw her. When the enemy did this, he tapped into the fact that Eve, along with her husband, was created for both of these things. The appeal in Satan’s temptation was that he offered a shortcut to them. Or so it seemed. As soon as Adam and Eve fell to temptation, it began to become evident that what they received were counterfeit freedom and counterfeit glory.  Behind the thin veil of Satan’s offer was the exact opposite of what Adam and Eve thought they were signing up for.  Instead of freedom and glory, they found bondage and shame.

Ever since then, the children of Adam and Eve have been longing for true freedom and true glory, and have been looking for them in all the wrong places. Satan is still at work offering shortcuts, and we are still prone to the same kind of deception and rebellion that drives us to pursue these things in the wrong way. Pride is found wherever we pursue freedom and glory on our own terms, without any connection to God.  It comes when the prospect of being like God gets cast off in the pursuit of trying to be God.  Satan baited his hook in this way with our first parents, and he is still at it with a great deal of success today.

The way to defeat pride is not to stop wanting freedom and glory. It would have been dishonest and ineffective for Eve to deny that she wanted what the fruit in the garden seemed to offer her. What she needed, and what we need, is to recognize that God offers us the real versions of these things.  And by God’s design, the creation itself longs to see us get them. In some mysterious way, God has consigned all of creation to an experience of the decay that comes along with bondage to sin. In this way, the creation groans along with us, longing to experience what Paul calls “the freedom of the glory of the children of God”. This is not a sideshow in God’s plan for history. The revealing of the sons of God is what the creation eagerly longs for. And through union with Christ, we get to be a part of it.

How does this expectation help us to defeat pride? Not simply by telling us that pride is wrong. We were created to want the glory of God, and to want it in a way that glorifies God instead of ourselves. And this is what God promises to give us. He promises that someday, because of Christ, his character will shine through us unhindered. As his children, we will be free to shine like our Father. And in that day, we will be free from every inclination to hijack that glory and point it back at ourselves. This is the true freedom of the glory of the children of God. This is the kind of hope that kills pride.

(More Specific) Reasons to be Reasonable

“Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand” – Philippians 4:5

The fact that the Lord is near should produce a reasonableness in my response to others.  In order for this kind of response to happen, I need some clarity about what the Lord’s nearness means for me, particularly in frustrating situations.

Because he is the Lord, he is the most important person in the room. Whatever I’m going through, it’s first and foremost about him. It’s not about me or about the person who’s causing problems for me, and the solution to the problem isn’t ultimately found in either of us. The significance and the solution are both found in Christ.  His lordship – his preeminence (Col. 1:16) – should reorient my perspective on every situation.  That reorientation can begin even before I remember the provision that the Lord offers to me in his nearness.

And I must not forget his provision. As the Lord, he is in control. When I am interacting with an unreasonable person, it feels like that person is hijacking control of my life. Or at least some part of it. It’s unsettling to see part of my life taken over someone who clearly doesn’t have my best interests in mind. And at one level, this can really happen; but the hijacker’s influence is not ultimate. Final and definitive control of my life and all of its details lies with the Lord alone.

The Lord who is near has made promises to me that the unreasonable person can’t break. These are lasting promises that can’t be matched by anyone.  He promises to exercise the full force of his power, wisdom, and love to ensure that every detail he assigns to me is worked out for my good. He promises to get me to a place where where fear of the future will be gone forever, and where I will look back without a single regrets about any of his dealings with me.

This Lord, who works for my good in ways that are often painful for me, is not cold and clinical about the pain that process requires. He’s not like the stern, one-dimensional parent who is exclusively concerned about growing up to be big and strong, and entirely unconcerned about how hard it is to develop a taste for broccoli.  This is the Lord who calls me to cast all of my cares on him, because he cares for me (1 Pet. 5:7).

Because he is the Lord, it’s his evaluation of me that matters. Someday, when I stand before him, the importance of everyone else’s opinion of me will vaporize. And (unlike me) this Lord is more than reasonable. He is kind. Instead of insisting that I measure up before he accepts me, he has done the measuring up for me.

The Lord’s nearness gives me what I need for stability when it feels like my world is being shaken.  His wise and loving control of my life, his unbreakable promises, his personal care for me, his righteousness in exchange for my shame, all come together to form a broad and solid place to stand.  But in order to stand there, I need to get there, and I don’t get there by accident.  Rather, I get there and stand there by faith.

I prepare to weather tough moments by faith as I commune with the Lord who promises to be near when they arrive.  I also prepare for them by applying the truth about the Lord and his nearness in these tough moments.  The more I live by the truth in real-life situations, the better I know it, understand it and love it, and the better prepared I am to live by it more fully in the future.

Reason to be reasonable

“Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand” – Philippians 4:5

If it came naturally for us to be reasonable with everyone, Paul would not have to tell us to do it.  But it is not natural.  It is so often reflexive for me to respond to the inconveniences that people introduce into my life with irritation instead of reasonableness.  That irritation might be expressed or unexpressed, mainly depending on my level of familiarity with the irritating person.  But if my internal response isn’t reasonable, then my reasonableness won’t be known to them, even if I don’t snap at them (this time).

Of course, I don’t choose to be unreasonable.  In fact, some of my most unreasonable moments are the ones in which I feel most vehemently reasonable.  I feel this way because I sense the other person being unreasonable with me, and my rational powers go to work popping off reasons why they shouldn’t do it.  My response makes perfect sense… to me.

Now certainly, Paul is talking about more than being logical.  But he’s not talking about less.  He’s not insisting that I simply ignore certain things, like the fact that a telemarketer’s friendly greeting is a cheaply disguised tool to pry money out me.  Rather, Paul is calling me to put things in their proper order of priority, which is a very logical thing to do.  In the logical order of priority, the first thing that needs to shape my view of any situation is that “The Lord is at hand.”  This begins to change everything, if I don’t miss it.

I naturally see my conflicts as involving two people:  myself and the unreasonable person.  And in this kind of situation, I see myself as the central point of reference.  The other person may have information to contribute, but the authoritative evaluation belongs to me.  And it’s about me.

With that as my starting point, I can move in a basically logical direction, demonstrating why I’m so right.  It’s logical (usually) in the sense that one idea builds properly on another.  My flow of thought isn’t irrational; my premise, however, is.  In the moment, my premise involves a narrow, stilted view of reality that looks a lot like Carl Sagan’s view of the cosmos:  “My kingdom is all that is, or was, or ever will be.”  I know how idiotic a statement like that that sounds when some smart guy on PBS says it, yet I’m prone to build a string of logical arguments on the same dumb idea.  It’s not truly reasonable, and that’s not hard for others to see.

In order to be really reasonable, I need to start with something that shakes all the garbage out of my original starting point, and starts my logic off in a different direction.  That something is the convicting, liberating, reason-restoring fact that “The Lord is at hand.”  He really is.

I can’t carry what I can’t touch

We all carry many different burdens at different times. Some of those burdens are necessary and unavoidable.  Others are not.  Whenever I haul around burdens that I’m not supposed to, I rob myself of the strength I’m supposed to spend on my real responsibilities.

One of the unnecessary burdens I carry is the burden of anxiety over real responsibilities that I will need to take care of in the future. With seminary work, increasing responsibilities in ministry, five boys to raise, and a marriage to protect, there is no end to the demands on my time. There is always a list of things to do; some of those things are written down and organized, and some of them are just in my mind. Having my future responsibilities well-organized helps, but it does not really solve the problem.

What does help is to remember that almost all of my anxiety has to do with the future. I very rarely worry about the current moment. Sometimes the current moment is hard, but my worry is almost always about what is to come. It might be focused on 30 years from now, or it might be focused on 30 seconds from now. However far away the focus of my worry is, what I need to remember is that I can’t get there. I’m worrying about something that I can’t touch, and because I can’t touch it, I have no direct control over it, or responsibility for it.

Worry over what I will be responsible for in the future creates a persistent and unnecessary burden. It must be part of the burden that Jesus describes when he says “come to me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matt. 11:28)

In order to cast off the burden of anxiety over the future, I need to remember two things – one thing looks back, and the other looks forward.

First, at every moment in my past, without exception, God is been faithful to provide for me. The simplest evidence for God’s faithfulness to me is the fact that I’m still here, and I’m not ruined. God has never once failed to keep me.

Second, this same God has promised to meet all of my needs in the future. Whatever pain he chooses to allow into my life, he has promised that he will not allow me to be destroyed. Given his demonstrated faithfulness to this promise at every single point in my past, I have every reason to believe it for the future.

This truth leads to real freedom, if I am disciplined to actively believe it. It takes discipline to cast all of my cares on the Lord, remembering that he cares for me (1 Pet. 5:7). But when I do this, I find the peace of mind that can’t be explained in human terms. I find a liberating and energizing sense that all will be well, because my well-being is in the hands of someone who can guarantee it.

I will have to do hard and painful things again in the future. I will face situations that make me feel hopeless in myself. This is a healthy thing.  Because of God’s provision, every impossible situation that I face will leave me with one more experience of God’s ability to do what nobody else can.  Like carry the future.

Why should we not sin?

“What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase? May it never be! How shall we who died to sin still live in it?”

– Romans 6:1-2

If our acceptance before God is based entirely on the righteousness of Christ, and consequently not on our performance, then why should we not sin? If we were just to let ourselves do whatever we wanted, wouldn’t that relieve a lot of pressure? And if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll admit that the reason we sin is because we enjoy it. So why not relax a little and get the best of both worlds?

There are many good and valid answers to this question. The one that’s most compelling to me is that when we sin, we don’t get the best of both worlds. When we sin, we force ourselves to miss out on the greatest possible experience of the greatest possible good. In its place, we get something that is both infinitely less valuable and that by its very nature keeps us from that which is best. Any way you cut it, that’s just not worth it.

God is infinitely more valuable than anything that is not God. He is our greatest possible good. And as a Christian, you get to experience this good through the most intimate of all possible relationships: God living through you. You cannot get any closer to God than that. You cannot experience God in any more significant way. To have God express Himself through you is the greatest possible way to get the greatest possible gift. That’s what it means to “walk in newness of life” (v 4). We get to do that! People who haven’t died to sin are “free in regard to righteousness” (v 20) – that is, they are free from life. All they get is what’s left over when life is taken out of the picture, which is a rotten deal.

Grace is God’s gift of himself to sinners. When we see that sin keeps us from what’s best, and that we have been freed from sin so that we can have what’s best in the most profound, personal, intimate way possible, then the idea that we should sin to increase grace becomes self-contradictory. Sin keeps us from enjoying what grace gives us. The nature of sin is such that you cannot enjoy both God and sin at the same time. When we’re faced with temptation, we’re faced with a choice: the easy, temporary, God-excluding pleasure of death, or the difficult, eternal, death-excluding pleasure of life.

What shall we say then?

Redeeming the Time

Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil.

– Ephesians 5:15-16

As we prepare to travel to Poland, I’m reminded of the lives that have been radically and unexpectedly altered during the last hundred years of that country’s history. I wonder how many Polish citizens – especially Jews – were taken totally by surprise when Hitler’s rampage overflowed into their country in 1939? How many successful businesses and comfortable lives were crushed without warning? And in how many ways were those people a lot like us?

The war in which our country is engaged is one that rarely touches most of us. For all practical purposes, we live in a time of peace. We’re free to come and go as we please, pursue our dreams, engage in business and pleasure, raise families, or travel the world (or explore it from home). And we generally expect things to stay that way.

But the fact is that we don’t know what our lives will be like tomorrow. We don’t know what our nation will be like tomorrow. That’s hard to grasp, living in a place where change generally doesn’t happen. I’m not espousing some kind of conspiracy theory, and I don’t really expect things to literally get turned upside down tomorrow. But history has proven over and over that things often change much more quickly and dramatically than people expect them to.

This reality could lead to paranoia, or it could lead us to a sense of thankfulness and dependence and urgency. We live in a time of unprecedented privilege and opportunity. Whether that changes six months from now or stays the same way for the rest of our lives, we’ll give an account for what we did with it. “From everyone who has been given much, much will be required” (Luke 12:48). That’s us.

We need to ask the Lord for a healthy sense of our own mortality. Not one that will throw us into a panic, but one that will wake us up, that will allow us to live wisely. I think that’s what Moses was after in Psalm 90:12: “So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.” Only this kind of wisdom will allow us to make the most of our time. We need to remember that “the days are evil” even when the days are easy.

This idea of living intentionally and redeeming the time is one of the big ideas we’re hoping to communicate about parenting while we’re in Poland. That’s why the title we’re using for our parenting seminars is “Parenting on Purpose”. Please pray that we would both teach and learn about these things in helpful and refreshing ways. Thanks for partnering with us in this effort!