The IRGC aerospace command takes credit for the achievement and says that it builds on legacies dating back to 1988.

Maher Obeid, member of the Hamas 'political bureau,' said that any prisoner swap must include 'all the symbols, from Marwan Barghouti to Ahmad Sa’adat.'

The US has argued that the Assad regime is involved in “brutality and repression” and that its actions create instability in the region.

Health protocols relating to the coronavirus pandemic will be put in place to deal with he new traffic.

The drawdown would come as Egypt battles an Islamist insurgency in the desert peninsula

To date UNRWA has received only $586 million in pledges, of which a mere $400 million has been transferred to the organization from donor countries.

The global pandemic has brought Israel and Hamas closer than ever to a long-awaited prisoner swap.

Turkey’s official coronavirus infections rose to more than 86,000 with 2,000 deaths on Monday.

While admitting that the official death toll from the coronavirus outbreak in Iran has exceeded 6,000, the Islamic Republic Minister of Health warned of a heavy second wave of the disease next autumn and winter. ";A relatively heavy attack by a combination of flu and coronavirus is expected in the fall and winter";, the Minister, Saeed Namaki, reiterated.

After two decades of dryness, enough rains have finally come to bring Hamoun wetland back to life in the southeastern Iranian province of Sistan-Baluchestan, reviving agriculture in the region as well. Hamoun is the third-largest lake of Iran after the Caspian Sea and Urmia Lake.

More than 12,000 Iranian lawyers have protested to a draft bill that undermines their independence and in effect replaces the Iranian Bar Association with a group of judiciary officials appointed by the government. Based on the draft the Judiciary will form a new body named the ";Supreme Council for the Coordination of Lawyers' Affairs"; that will be based at the Judiciary branch of the government ";to coordinate matters relating to attorneys.";

The body of Ali Ajami, an Iranian human rights activist, was discovered in McGovern Lake at Hermann Park, Houston, Texas, on Wednesday. The cause of death remains unknown. Houston Police on Wednesday started an investigation into the death of a deceased male found in a pond at Hermann Park but said no other information was available yet. Iranian social media users have reported that the body belonged to thirty-seven-year-old Iranian human rights activist Ali Ajami.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on September 16, 2015. -ed.

Love, don’t judge.

For many people in the church, that simple slogan has become the kneejerk defense in the face of criticism and confrontation. At some point, believers decided that careful discernment and agapē love are diametrically opposed; that judgment is always a threat to our unity in Christ. And with no regard for the quality or content of the exhortation, too many Christians speedily deploy Matthew 7:1 as an all-purpose, get-out-of-jail-free card: “Do not judge so that you will not be judged.”

Writing thirty years ago in his commentary on Matthew’s gospel, John MacArthur explained how that verse is routinely misapplied as a shield against confrontation and conflict in the church.

This passage has erroneously been used to suggest that believers should never evaluate or criticize anyone for anything. Our day hates absolutes, especially theological and moral absolutes, and such simplistic interpretation provides a convenient escape from confrontation. Members of modern society, including many professing Christians, tend to resist dogmatism and strong convictions about right and wrong. Many people prefer to speak of all-inclusive love, compromise, ecumenism, and unity. To the modern religious person those are the only “doctrines” worth defending, and they are the doctrines to which every conflicting doctrine must be sacrificed. ^[1] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7 (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1985), 430.

In the intervening decades, the church’s appetite for criticism, conflict, and confrontation has only further diminished. And in that same time, the misunderstanding and misapplication of this verse and others like it (cf. Luke 6:37; John 3:17) has taken root in the church, skewing its perspective on discipline and judgment, and insulating its people from rebuke and exhortation.

In fact, many in the church today behave as if confrontation and discerning judgment are forbidden. Any confrontation—whether it’s a question of personal holiness or doctrinal disagreement—is seen as prideful overstepping and an attack on the unity of God’s people. As John MacArthur explains,

In many circles, including some evangelical circles, those who hold to strong convictions and who speak up and confront society and the church are branded as violators of this command not to judge, and are seen as troublemakers or, at best, as controversial. ^[2] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7, 431.

But Matthew 7:1 has nothing to do with avoiding conflict in favor of unity, or ignoring doctrinal or moral error in the name of love. As with many of the abused verses we’ll examine in this series, a simple look at the context makes the original intent of Christ’s words abundantly clear.

The seventh chapter of Matthew’s gospel represents the end of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount—His most extensive teaching on living as a citizen of the kingdom of God. Woven throughout that sermon is an exposé of the hypocrisy of the religious leaders of His day. Jesus upends the system of works-righteousness they had inflicted on God-fearing people throughout Israel.

During Christ’s life and ministry, the Jewish faith had been reduced to a heavy-handed list of dos and don’ts. The religious elite had obliterated God’s original intent in giving His law to His people, replacing it with a burdensome system of works righteousness. And they held the entire nation to their corrupt, man-made standard.

In his commentary, John MacArthur explains how the focus of Christ’s Sermon on the Mount makes it clear that the Lord was not prohibiting judgment, but promoting discernment.

If this greatest sermon by our Lord teaches anything, it teaches that His followers are to be discerning and perceptive in what they believe and in what they do, that they must make every effort to judge between truth and falsehood, between the internal and the external, between reality and sham, between true righteousness and false righteousness—in short, between God’s way and all other ways. ^[3] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7, 431.

With that in mind, the prohibition against judgment takes on completely different nuance. Christ was condemning a very specific kind of self-righteous judgment—the kind we see on display in His parable about the Pharisee and the tax collector.

And He also told this parable to some people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and viewed others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and was praying this to himself: ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other people: swindlers, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I pay tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing some distance away, was even unwilling to lift up his eyes to heaven, but was beating his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, the sinner!’ I tell you, this man went to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14)

Like many professing believers today, the Pharisees put on a good show of public holiness, and loved looking down on anyone who didn’t. As John explains,

Jesus here is talking about the self-righteous, egotistical judgment and unmerciful condemnation of others practiced by the scribes and Pharisees. Their primary concern was not to help others from sin to holiness, but to condemn them to eternal judgment because of actions and attitudes that did not square with their own worldly, self-made traditions. ^[4] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7, 432.

Jesus’ words in Matthew 7:1 were a reminder to the religious elite that they were not the final judges—that they too would stand before God, and that they would not want to be held to their own rigorous, self-righteous standard (Matthew 7:2). Believers today need to heed that warning as well, and avoid the same kind of hypocritical hubris regarding our own holiness, and how it corresponds to other believers’.

We also need to consider how to biblically discern, confront, and rebuke when necessary. Fortunately for us, Christ addressed that very issue in His subsequent statements.

Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, “Let me take the speck out of your eye,” and behold, the log is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7:3-5)

Confrontation and criticism are not forbidden in the church, but they must be undergirded with humility and purity. We need to humbly submit to the Lord, shining the light of His Word into the dark corners of our own hearts instead of arrogantly pointing it in someone else’s face. It’s only when we’ve dealt faithfully and biblically with our own sin that we can help a brother see his own. And as John explains, even in the midst of confrontation, we need to maintain a spirit of humility.

All confrontation of sin in others must be done out of meekness, not pride. We cannot play the role of judge—passing sentence as if we were God. We cannot play the role of superior—as if we were exempt from the same standards we demand of others. We must not play the hypocrite—blaming others while we excuse ourselves. ^[5] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7, 437.

We do a great disservice to the Body of Christ when we confront and judge one another in arrogance and self-righteousness. But, as John MacArthur writes, we also do damage to the church if we fail to exercise godly judgment and discernment when it’s warranted.

There is also danger, however, even for the truly humble and repentant believer. The first danger . . . is of concluding that we have no right to oppose wrong doctrine or wrong practices in the church, lest we fall into judgmental self-righteousness. We will then not be willing to confront a sinning brother as the Lord clearly calls us to do. The second danger is closely related to the first. If we are afraid to confront falsehood and sin in the church, we will be inclined to become undiscriminating and undiscerning. The church, and our own lives, will become more and more in danger of corruption. Realizing the impact of sin in the assembly (1 Peter 4:15), Peter made a powerful call for a confrontive, critical church when he said, “For it is time for judgment to begin with the household of God” (1 Peter 4:17). Believers must be discerning and make proper judgment when it is required. ^[6] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 1-7, 437.

Discernment does not have to lead to division. If we faithfully follow the pattern Christ gave us, we will be able to confront one another out of love and humility, not arrogance and self-righteousness. And we’ll be able to humbly accept the input of others without rushing to defensive arguments and judgmental retaliation.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on September 18, 2015. -ed.

In the quiet intimacy of the upper room, just hours before His arrest, Christ gave His disciples some final encouragement and instruction. He revealed again His unity with the Father, comforted His disciples with the promise of heaven, and told them about the Helper who would empower them for the work ahead (John 14:1-17). But as usual, the disciples failed to fully understand what He was saying.

Some of their confusion lives on in the church today. In particular, one of Christ’s statements in this passage has confounded and divided many believers, with some using the Lord’s promise as proof of the continuation of the apostolic gifts throughout the history of the church.

In John 14:12, Jesus promises His followers: “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father.”

In his book The Upper Room, John MacArthur explains why there is persistent confusion in the church today about the nature of Christ’s promise.

Christians over the centuries have wondered at the richness of such a promise. What does it mean? How could anyone do greater works than Jesus had done? He had healed people blind from birth, cast out the most powerful demons, and even raised Lazarus from the dead after four days in the grave. What could possibly be greater than those miracles? ^[1] John MacArthur, The Upper Room (The Woodlands, TX: Kress Biblical Resources, 2014) 93.

For charismatic authors who believe in the continuation of the apostolic gifts, the answer is simple. In his book Authentic Fire, Michael Brown explains it this way:

Jesus gave a universal promise in John 14:12 that implies that all believers can ask God to demonstrate His healing and miracle-working power through them, since the statement in John 14:12 is programmatic, as Jesus said: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father.” How is this not universal in scope, given that the identical Greek phrase ho pisteuon eis eme, whoever believes in Me, is always universal in application in John? (See John 6:35; 7:38; 11:25; 12:44, 46.) And while we can debate exactly what Jesus intended by the “greater works,” it is difficult to escape from the conclusion that whoever believes in the Son will also perform miraculous signs, based on: 1) the immediate context (14:9-11, with the emphasis on miracles as the works done by Jesus); 2) the universality of the language used; and 3) the assurance which follows, guaranteeing the efficacy of prayer to the Father in Jesus’ name. . . .

This promise cannot be limited to the apostle based on the language of “whoever believes in Me,” nor can it [sic] limited to non-supernatural acts of service. The reverse is actually true. ^[2] Michael Brown, Authentic Fire (Lake Mary, FL: Excel Publishers, 2014) 188-189.

Writing for Charisma Magazine, charismatic author Larry Sparks makes the same assertion that Christ’s words to His disciples are “a powerful blanket statement” for all believers, throughout church history.

Whoever means whoever. This is beyond the 12 apostles and the 72 called-out ones in Luke 10. Whoever spans all generations. Whoever invites us, in the 21st century, to once again contend for an outpouring of supernatural power in our midst.^[3] http://www.charismamag.com/index.php/newsletters/spiritled-woman-e-magazine/23749-the-danger-of-celebrating-halloween

Bill Johnson, pastor of Bethel Church in Redding, California, (one of the most influential charismatic churches in the world) and instructor at the Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry, teaches a similar interpretation of the “greater works.” In his book When Heaven Invades Earth, he writes, “The miraculous is a large part of the plan of God for this world. And it is to come through the Church.” ^[4] Bill Johnson, When Heaven Invades Earth (Shippensburg, PA: Treasure House, 2003) 136. Johnson teaches that in His incarnation, Christ emptied Himself of all divine attributes, and in His humanity is the model for our lives.

Jesus became the model for all who would embrace the invitation to invade the impossible in His name. He performed miracles, wonders, and signs, as a man in right relationship to God . . . not as God. If He performed miracles because He was God, then they would be unattainable for us. But if He did them as a man, I am responsible to pursue His lifestyle. ^[5] When Heaven Invades Earth, 29.

Through that lens of Christ’s humanity, Johnson understands John 14:12 as a challenge to surpass His miraculous works.

Jesus’ prophecy of us doing greater works than He did has stirred the Church to look for some abstract meaning to this very simple statement. Many theologians seek to honor the works of Jesus as unattainable, which is religion, fathered by unbelief. It does not impress God to ignore what He promised under the guise of honoring the work of Jesus on the earth. Jesus’ statement is not that hard to understand. Greater means “greater.” And the works he referred to are signs and wonders. It will not be a disservice to Him to have a generation obey Him, and go beyond His own high-water mark. He showed us what one person could do who has the Spirit without measure. What could millions do? That was His point, and it became His prophecy. ^[6] When Heaven Invades Earth, 185.

We could go on and on with examples of that kind of teaching from charismatic sources, but you get the point. For those arguing for the continuation of the apostolic gifts, John 14:12 is a battleground text.

But was it really meant to be a promise of miraculous power to every believer? The testimony of church history suggests it was not, as many generations of saints have come and gone without any evidence of apostolic power. And while charismatics will argue that there is evidence of miracles today, it’s always anecdotal, rarely documented or objectively substantiated, and often comes from the far-flung corners of the globe.

Even by that flawed standard, the Spirit’s supposed miraculous work today is significantly different than His ministry through the apostles in the first-century church. Far from healing the crippled, curing the ravages of disease, and raising the dead, it seems the focus of the Holy Spirit’s healing ministry today is limited to rheumatoid arthritis, nagging back pain, and other subjective ailments. No longer is His work dramatic, obvious, and undeniable—today it’s mysterious, indiscriminate, and surprisingly absent when and where it’s most needed.

There is no arguing against the fact that Christ bestowed His supernatural power to His disciples (Acts 5:12-16). But there is no reason to characterize their miracles as “greater” than Christ’s, either in magnitude or degree. Furthermore, there is scant evidence that His promise of power extends to the subsequent generations of the church. In other words, not only have we not seen the charismatic interpretation validated by nearly 19 centuries of Christian history, it can’t even be validated by the miraculous works of the twelve apostles! (For further exegetical explanation of the limits of Christ’s promise in John 14:12, I recommend this article from Matt Waymeyer.)

So if Christ wasn’t promising miraculous power that exceeded His own, what did He mean by “greater works?” As John MacArthur explains, Jesus was indicating that the disciples works would be greater not in power, but in extent.

The key to understanding this promise is in the last phrase of verse 12: “because I go to the Father.” When Jesus went to the Father, He sent the Holy Spirit. The Spirit’s power completely transformed the disciples from a group of fearful, timid individuals into a cohesive force that reached the world with the gospel. The impact of their preaching exceeded even the impact of Jesus’ public teaching ministry during His lifetime. Jesus never preached outside a 175-mile radius extending from His birthplace. Within His lifetime, Europe never received word of the gospel. But under the ministry of the disciples the good news began to spread, and it’s still spreading today. Their works were greater than His, not in power, but in scope. Through the indwelling Holy Spirit, each one of those disciples had access to power in dimensions they did not previously have, even with the physical presence of Christ.

The disciples undoubtedly thought that without Christ they would be reduced to nothing. He was the source of their strength; how could they have power without Him? His promise was meant to ease those fears. If they felt secure in His presence, they would be even more secure, more powerful, able to do more, if He returned to the Father and sent the Holy Spirit. ^[7] The Upper Room, 93-94.

Christ did not hand-pick His disciples merely to perform signs and wonders in His name. They were chosen to extend the good news of His sacrificial, atoning death beyond the reaches of Israel and Palestine, to the far reaches of the globe. They were preaching the completed work of Christ on behalf of sinners, spawning spiritual revival throughout the known world. In that sense, their work was greater than Christ’s, as they bore witness to the truth of His life and death, and saw firsthand the transforming work of the Holy Spirit.

As John MacArthur explains, the work of the gospel is the greatest ministry work of all.

After all, the greatest miracle God can perform is salvation. Every time we introduce someone to faith in Jesus Christ, we are observers of the new birth; we are supporting the most important spiritual work in the world. How exciting it is to be involved in what God is doing spiritually and to do things greater than even Jesus saw in His day. ^[8] The Upper Room, 94.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on September 21, 2015. -ed.

Few things are more destructive than misinterpreting God’s Word. A wrong interpretation can lead to physical harm (e.g., handling snakes based on Mark 16:18) or spiritual harm (e.g., consternation over one’s salvation in the absence of speaking in tongues).

Aside from misunderstanding the text as it is written, misinterpretation often happens when we ignore, or are ignorant of, the historical background of the text. We can easily forget that the divine words we read in each biblical account rise out of the milieu of each human author’s cultural context. And when we do, we run the risk of wrongly assuming why the authors wrote certain things, and what they meant, and how it applies to us. On the other hand, Scripture becomes so much clearer and more profound when understood in its original context.

Christ’s warning to the lukewarm Laodicean church takes on a new flavor when we understand how the city of Laodicea sat on an aqueduct of putrid water that was neither hot nor cold (Revelation 3:14–16). Exhortations to the suffering Philippians carry a greater force once we realize that Paul wrote them from his prison cell (Philippians 1:28–30). And Christ’s confrontations with the Pharisees are all the more condemning when we understand the blasphemy and hypocrisy of their works-righteousness (cf. Luke 20; John 8:12–59).

The modern trend of Christian contextualization is antithetical to a historical interpretation. Rather than taking the audience back to the original setting of the text at hand, many of today’s preachers labor to sever the biblical text from its historical moorings and transport it into a contemporary setting. Hence the explosion of sermons based on pop culture, racy subject matter, and social justice. Even the WWJD (What Would Jesus Do) juggernaut is symptomatic of this problem, by speculating about what Jesus might do, rather than examining what He did do.

Moreover, such an approach relegates the biblical text to the role of supporting cast in the preacher’s consumer-driven production. And when Scripture no longer holds primacy, the ability to play fast and loose with the biblical text grows. Nowhere is that trend more evident than in churches where growth is measured numerically rather than spiritually. By widening the narrow gate, seeker-sensitive churches have filled vast auditoriums with people who do not understand the cost of faith and repentance. Instead of being sensitive to the only true Seeker, they have pandered to the preferences of unbelievers.

Recently we discussed the dangers of a man-centered theology of salvation. Seeker-sensitive pastors routinely provide a path of least biblical resistance for the unbeliever to gain entry into God’s kingdom. And for many, Romans 10:9 is the shortcut they’ve been looking for: “If you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.”   

Paul could never have imagined his glorious, hope-filled promise would be exploited 2,000 years later as a two-step altar call formula—simply confess and believe. It has become a comfortable, spiritual Fast Pass for people who have no interest in submitting to the lordship of Christ.

Joseph Prince, a mega-church pastor, best-selling author, and TBN regular, offers this cheap invitation to those who visit his website:

The Bible tells us how to be saved and have eternal life: Believe in our hearts that Jesus died for our sins and was raised from the grave, and confess with our mouths that He is our Lord and Savior. . . . To be saved and to receive all that Jesus has done for you, you can make Him your Lord and Savior today by praying this prayer: “Lord Jesus, thank You for loving me and dying for me on the cross. Your precious blood washes me clean of every sin. You are my Lord and my Savior, now and forever. I believe that You rose from the dead and that You are alive today. Because of Your finished work, I am now a beloved child of God and heaven is my home. Thank You for giving me eternal life, and filling my heart with Your peace and joy. Amen” (emphasis added). ^[1] http://support.josephprince.org/index.php?/Knowledgebase/Article/View/124/22/a-is-jesus-christ-the-only-way-to-heaven-what-must-i-do-to-be-saved-and-have-eternal-life

Unfortunately, Joseph Prince’s textploitation is nothing unusual in the current evangelical climate. Regardless, reading the rest of Romans would be far more beneficial than tuning into Prince’s next broadcast. Paul made it clear elsewhere that our confession and faith are proven false if there is no fruit of repentance in our lives (Romans 6:1–18).

So with that in mind, what do we make of Paul’s simple confession of faith? Is it really all that’s required for salvation? This is why the original context is vital.

Paul wrote his theological magnum opus to Christians whose lives were under constant threat from the Roman government. The god-complex carried by deluded emperors developed into a cult of Caesar among the residents of Rome. Citizens needed to express their primary allegiance to their self-deified ruler by confessing “Caesar is lord.” Failure to do so was usually met with a grizzly death.

Paul’s readers needed to be encouraged to remain steadfast in their faithfulness to Christ under the threat of execution. The promise of salvation through confession and belief was never intended to provide a ticket to heaven by jumping through two easy hoops. It was the promise of eternal life to Christians who could very well lose their physical life because they confessed Jesus—not Caesar—as Lord.

The greatest tragedy of Prince’s mishandling of Romans 10:9 is that he has taken a profession of faith that cost many Christians their lives and turned it into a profession of faith that avoids any personal cost whatsoever. It may create more converts, but what exactly are they converting to?

John MacArthur warns strongly against treating Romans 10:9 as a minimum requirement for salvation. He points out that words like “Lord” and “believe” are loaded with implicit meaning that far exceeds a path of least resistance into God’s kingdom:

Many people acknowledge that Jesus is both the Son of God and Lord of the universe. But Paul is speaking of the deep, personal, abiding conviction that, without any reservation or qualification, will confess . . . Jesus as Lord, that is, will confess that Jesus is the believer’s own sovereign, ruling Lord, in whom alone he trusts for salvation and to whom he submits.

James teaches that even demons acknowledge truth about God. In a purely factual sense, they are completely orthodox in their theology. “You believe that God is one,” he writes. “You do well; the demons also believe, and shudder” (James 2:19). In other words, demons are monotheists. Satan and his fallen angels are also confirmed creationists, having watched God form the heavens and the earth simply by speaking them into existence. . . .

James’s point is that men can hold such demon belief, belief that is theologically correct but that does not include reception of Jesus as Lord. People may be well aware of their sin, be under deep conviction about it, and even have a great emotional sense of guilt from which they long to be delivered. But they do not repent and forsake the sin that causes the guilt, nor do they trust in the Savior who can forgive and remove the sin. Speaking about such people, the writer of Hebrews gives one of the most sobering warnings to be found in Scripture: “For in the case of those who have once been enlightened and have tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance, since they again crucify to themselves the Son of God, and put Him to open shame” (Hebrews 6:4–6). ^[2] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Romans 9–16 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1994) 73.

In other words, a person can verbally confess Christ’s lordship and affirm His resurrection, and still go to hell. Confession and belief are not hoops to be jumped through. They are the affirming signs of genuine repentance from sin, true saving faith in the resurrected Savior, and authentic obedience to His commands.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on September 23, 2015. -ed.

What do your prayers sound like to other people? Are you expressing submission to the Lord and His will for your life? Or do you approach His throne with an exhaustive wish list?

If we are honest, we’re all occasionally guilty of treating God like a mystical genie or Santa Claus—as though He exists only to fulfill our requests. Often, such impertinence is the result of immature faith, spiritual short-sightedness, and unbiblical priorities. It must not be the norm.

However there are some who claim to know and love the Lord who routinely approach Him with that kind of presumptuousness, and brazenly defend it with Scripture—specifically, John 14:14, “If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it” (other verses are similarly abused, including Matthew 21:22, Mark 11:24, and 1 John 5:15).

That verse is a particular favorite within the Word Faith movement—a subset of the charismatic church that’s home to most of the flamboyant prosperity preachers you’ve seen on TBN, along with all other proponents of charismatic “health and wealth” theology. In his book Charismatic Chaos, John MacArthur defines the movement this way:

As the name “Word Faith” implies, this movement teaches that faith is a matter of what we say more than whom we trust or what truths we embrace and affirm in our hearts. A favorite term in the Word Faith movement is “positive confession.” It refers to the Word Faith teaching that words have creative power. What you say, Word Faith teachers claim, determines everything that happens to you. Your “confessions,” that is, the things you say—especially the favors you demand of God—must all be stated positively and without wavering. Then God is required to answer. ^[1] John MacArthur, Charismatic Chaos, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992) 281.

While there are only microscopic differences between that theology and man-centered psycho-babble like the power of positive thinking, the Word Faith movement legitimizes its lies with a lot of biblical-sounding doublespeak, and the occasional proof text wrenched from its context and twisted beyond recognition. Here’s an example noted in Charismatic Chaos: 

Positive confession teaches people that their words are determinative. God is no longer the object of faith; Word Faith devotees learn to put their faith in their own words—or as [Kenneth] Hagin bluntly puts it, “faith in [their] own faith.” Try to follow his logic as he attempts to substantiate that concept:

Did you ever stop to think about having faith in your own faith? Evidently God had faith in His faith, because He spoke the words of faith and they came to pass. Evidently Jesus had faith in His faith, because He spoke to the fig tree, and what He said came to pass.

In other words, having faith in your words is having faith in your faith.

That’s what you’ve got to learn to do to get things from God: Have faith in your faith. . . .

Word Faith believers view their positive confessions as an incantation by which they can conjure up anything they desire. “Believe it in your heart; say it with your mouth. That is the principle of faith. You can have what you say,” Kenneth Hagin claims. Quoting John 14:14 (“If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it”), ignoring the plain implications of the phrase “in My name,” they take that verse to be an unqualified promise they can use in extorting from God whatever kind of cargo they fancy. ^[2] Charismatic Chaos, 284-285.

Worse still, Word Faith teachers reject the biblical mandate to submit their requests to the will of God, claiming that such submission is unbiblical. In his book, John MacArthur cites two examples of prosperity preachers (Fred Price and Robert Tilton) who guided their followers to pray for blessings and sow monetary seeds that exceeded their financial means. He then explains:

Note that both Price and Tilton recoil from praying, “If it be Thy will.” That is a common characteristic of Word Faith teachers. As we noted, they love to quote John 14:14, “If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it.” But 1 John 5:14 is noticeably missing from their database: “This is the confidence which we have before Him, that, if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us” (emphasis added). Hagin goes so far as to claim that no such truth is taught in the New Testament:

Because we didn’t understand what Jesus said, and because we’ve been religiously brainwashed instead of New Testament-taught, we watered down the promises of God and tacked on something that Jesus didn’t say, and added on something else to it: “Well, He will all right if it’s His will, but it might not be His will,” people have said. And yet, you don’t find that kind of talk in the New Testament.

Hagin has also written, “It is unscriptural to pray, ‘If it is the will of God.’ When you put an ‘if’ in your prayer, you are praying in doubt.” ^[3] Charismatic Chaos, 287.

Such blatant disregard for God’s will ought to trigger spiritual alarms and offend the consciences of everyone who truly knows and loves the Lord.

Certainly that wasn’t the attitude Christ commended to His disciples when He first spoke the words in John 14:14. In fact, as John MacArthur explains, the presumption of positive confession is a direct contradiction of Christ’s instruction in the upper room.

Jesus’ disciples had left everything and were completely without resources. Without their Master, they would be all alone in a hostile world. Yet, He assured them, they did not need to worry about any of their needs. The gap between Him and them would be closed instantly whenever they prayed. Even though He would be absent, they would have access to all His supplies.

That is not carte blanche for every whim of the flesh. There’s a qualifying statement repeated twice. He doesn’t say, “I’ll give you absolutely anything you ask for,” but rather, “I’ll do what you ask in My name.” That does not mean we can simply tack the words, “in-Jesus’-name-amen” on the end of our prayers and expect the answers we want every time. Neither is it a special formula or abracadabra that will magically guarantee the granting of our every wish.

The name of Jesus stands for all that He is. Throughout Scripture, God’s names are the same as His attributes. When Isaiah prophesied that Messiah would be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6), he was not listing actual names, but rather giving an overview of Messiah’s character. “I am who I am,” the name revealed to Moses in Exodus 3:14, is as much an affirmation of God’s eternal nature as it is a name by which He is to be called.

Therefore, praying in the name of Jesus is more than merely mentioning His name at the end of our prayers. If we are truly praying in Jesus’ name, we will pray only for that which is consistent with His perfect character, and for that which will bring glory to Him. It implies an acknowledgement of all that He has done and a submission to His will. ^[4] John MacArthur, The Upper Room (The Woodlands, TX: Kress Biblical Resources, 2014) 95-96.

God does not intend for His people to use His Son’s name as an incantation for material blessings—that’s nothing more than blasphemy. The whole point of praying in the name of Jesus is that we are submitting ourselves—and our requests—to Him and His will.

If anything, following Christ’s instructions in John 14:14 should break us of the kind of materialism that leads to such blasphemous abuse of His promise. As John MacArthur explains:

What praying in Jesus’ name really means is that we should pray as if our Lord Himself were doing the asking. We approach the throne of the Father in full identification with the Son, seeking only what He would seek. When we pray with that perspective, we begin to pray for the things that really matter, and we eliminate selfish requests. ^[5] The Upper Room, 96.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on September 28, 2015. -ed.

You’ve probably heard the proverb “Familiarity breeds contempt.” That’s often true with relationships and institutions, as your close proximity reveals cracks and blemishes you wouldn’t notice in passing. However, when it comes to Scripture, familiarity usually breeds carelessness.

Many of the “Frequently Abused Verses” we’re considering have been maliciously ripped from their context, misappropriated, and misapplied. Their original meaning has been twisted and contorted to serve a foreign purpose and make a fraudulent point.

However, in some cases, the abuse is much more passive. That’s true of the verse before us today—Romans 8:28, “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

At first glance, it might be hard to imagine how such a simple, straightforward verse could be abused. How could anyone misconstrue and misrepresent this wonderful promise from God?

But in this case, the abuse of this verse is tied to its familiarity and simplicity. Most believers have heard this verse so many times that they rarely stop to consider its larger context, or give any thought to the point the apostle Paul had in mind when he first wrote it. Call it “needlepoint theology”—the great passages of Scripture that most often wind up on wall hangings and throw pillows are the ones we’re least likely to prayerfully consider and thoroughly study.

Romans 8:28 is a prime example of how careless familiarity can lead to corruption. The verse is applied to virtually every hardship, disappointment, and trial that believers encounter. It’s an all-purpose spiritual salve for every situation.

A Better Life

Here’s one example—a devotional reading from Joel Osteen. Romans 8:28 appears to be one of the prosperity preacher’s favorite verses—this is just one of the many entries he’s written on it, titled “When Life Isn’t Fair.”

Everyone goes through things that don’t seem to make sense. It’s easy to get discouraged and wonder, “Why did this happen to me?” “Why did this person treat me wrong?” “Why did I get laid off?” But we have to understand, even though life is not always fair, God is fair. And, He promises to work all things together for good for those who love Him.

I believe the key word is this verse is “together.” In other words, you can’t just isolate one part of your life and say, “Well, this is not good.” “It’s not good that I got laid off.” “It’s not good that my relationship didn’t work out.” Yes, that’s true, but that’s just one part of your life. God can see the big picture. That disappointment is not the end. Remember, when one door closes, God has another door for you to walk through—a better door. Those difficulties and challenges are merely stepping stones toward your brighter future. Be encouraged today because God has a plan for you to rise higher. He has a plan for you to come out stronger. He has a plan to work all things together for your good so that you can move forward in the victory He has prepared for you! ^[1]Joel Osteen, https://www.joelosteen.com/Pages/MessageViewer.aspx?date=2013-02-22

With some variation, that represents many believers’ general understanding of what Paul meant in Romans 8:28—“Don’t let life get you down. God’s going to make everything better!”

Of course that oversimplification goes beyond the original intent of Paul’s words. There’s no biblical basis for Osteen’s promise that God always has a better door for us to walk through. In fact, His Word promises that life won’t always be happy, rich, and full—sometimes we’re meant to suffer (1 Peter 4:12).

It’s in the midst of that suffering that Romans 8:28 is most often deployed. We want to trust that God is working, even through our trials, to bring about His will. And there’s plenty of biblical evidence to back up that hope. The story of Joseph in the Old Testament is one of the clearest examples.

Joseph was severely beaten and sold into slavery by his brothers. He endured the illicit advances of his boss’ wife, and was thrown into prison after she made false accusations against him. He lingered in prison for years before he was released and brought in to council Pharaoh himself. He was given a position of leadership, in which the Lord used him to spare Egypt and countless surrounding communities—including his own family—from famine. At the end of his story, as he reconciles with the brothers who kick-started all his suffering, he acknowledges God’s sovereign hand working through it all: “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive” (Genesis 50:20).

Stories like Joseph’s give us confidence that God is always working behind the scenes to bring about His will. But He might not have such monumental purposes for our suffering. Sometimes it’s simply for our own spiritual growth that the Lord allows us to suffer through trials (James 1:2). The Spirit’s refining, sanctifying work is often painful, but the spiritual fruit it bears is well worth the struggle.

In his commentary on Romans, John MacArthur explains that God is working out

our good during this present life as well as ultimately in the life to come. No matter what happens in our lives as His children, the providence of God uses it for our temporal as well as our eternal benefit, sometimes by saving us from tragedies and sometimes by sending us through them in order to draw us closer to Him. ^[2] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Romans 1-8 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1991) 473-474.

But is our spiritual growth and temporal blessing the ultimate “good” Paul describes in his words to the Romans? A careful look at the context of verse 28 points us to an even greater promise from the Lord.

A Certain Eternity

In the immediate context of Romans 8, Paul is not dwelling on our current suffering, but looking forward to eternity. In verse 18, he mentions the “sufferings of this present time,” but only to say that they cannot compare to “the glory that is to be revealed to us.” From there he explains how creation groans to be free from the curse of sin (Romans 8:19-22), and how believers likewise long to see the fulfillment of their faith (vv. 23-25). Then he describes how the Spirit intercedes on our behalf according to God’s eternal purposes (vv. 26-27).

The theme continues in the verses immediately following:

For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren; and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified. (Romans 8:29-30)

In the context of the believer’s eternal glorification, we need to understand the “purpose” for which God is working all things together as not merely our temporal good, but our eternal good. In that sense, Romans 8:28 isn’t merely a promise that God is watching out for us in this life; it’s a guarantee that He is working out all aspects of our lives toward His ultimate goal of our future glorification. It’s a promise that our eternity with Him is secure.

In a sermon on this passage called “Groanings Too Deep for Words,” John MacArthur explains that powerful promise this way:

The point is this: Because of the plan of God and the provision of Christ and the protection of the Holy Spirit through His intercessory ministry, God is causing all things to work together for our final, eternal, ultimate good. Not everything in this life works out for good—far from it. Oh, you might draw a good lesson from it. You might draw a good outcome from it. You might be drawn to the Lord. It might increase your prayer life. It might strengthen you. It might give you patience. It might perfect you, mature you. It might make you able to counsel other people and strengthen them because . . . you’ve been comforted by God in the same struggles.

All of those are wonderful realities, but that’s not the good that’s being spoken of here. The good that dominates this passage is that ultimate, final good that is the glorification of true believers. We are secured to that final good, that which is the best.

In His providence, God is sovereignly orchestrating all events according to His will, for His glory and our good. But we’re not guaranteed that all our struggles will be turned into blessing. Sometimes He will rescue us from tragedies; other times it’s our suffering that brings about His desired result. Our perspective on His sovereign goodness cannot be bound to our own circumstances—if Joseph had remained in the Egyptian jail for the rest of His life, would God be any less good, or His will less than perfect?

What we are guaranteed in Romans 8:28 is that regardless of what we have to endure in this life, our eternity with Him is unassailable. Nothing can stand in the way of His plans for our future glorification.

And in the midst of life’s struggles, what better promise could we cling to?

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on October 2, 2015. -ed.

Truly I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven. Again I say to you, that if two of you agree on earth about anything that they may ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in heaven. For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst. (Matthew 18:18–20)

How often have you heard that passage (or at least part of it) quoted in a church setting?

During my time in the charismatic church, Matthew 18:18–20 was quoted in every prayer meeting and regularly from the pulpit. In fact, I cannot think of any other Scripture passage I heard quoted so frequently without ever hearing a sermon on the passage itself. And yet we would regularly bind demonic forces on earth and loose angelic armies from heaven. And we always reminded ourselves that Jesus was there because at least two or three of us were present.

Our church was far from alone in its dependence on Matthew 18:18–20. In fact, the passage is a favorite of self-appointed experts in spiritual warfare and those who put special emphasis on Christ’s presence. The passage has been chopped up and subdivided all sorts of ways in service to a number of doctrinal positions and practical applications.

For example, notorious faith healer and prosperity preacher Benny Hinn emphasizes Matthew 18:18 as a promise of supernatural power and heavenly authority:

Do you realize that movements on earth govern movements in heaven? Do you realize that a child of God in prayer affects decisions in heaven? The Lord declared: “Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven (Matthew 18:18). So awesome is this power that it releases angels to do God’s bidding on the earth and binds demons as it destroys the purpose of the enemy! ^[1]Benny Hinn, https://www.bennyhinn.org/tiyd-video/prayer-that-gets-results-part-1/

Contrast that with the conclusions of Rick Warren, who offers a far less spectacular interpretation and application of the passage, while employing similar hermeneutical technique in his assessment of verses 19–20:

Many people miss out on so much because they only pray by themselves. Yet, when Jesus gave us an outline for prayer, he spoke about praying together. There is power in group prayer. If you’re not praying with other believers, then you’re not getting the support you need. You’re missing out on one of the major benefits of being a Christian. Jesus says “whenever two of you on earth agree about anything you pray for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, I am there with them” (Matthew 18:19-20 TEV). That’s the power of praying with other people. ^[2]Rick Warren, http://rickwarren.org/devotional/english/a-powerful-key-to-prayer_700

Joyce Meyer comes out of the same Word Faith stream as Benny Hinn and also enjoys a huge television following. But her ministry prefers to traffic in practical advice for day-to-day life. She actually deploys Matthew 18:20 in the realm of marriage counsel:

The Bible says that there is power in agreement. . . .

If you want to have power in your marriage and in your prayer life, then you have to get along. The big question is: How can a disagreeing couple learn to agree? Agreement comes when the people involved stop being selfish. Selfishness is an immature inward focus. The key is to care about what the other person needs, be willing to humble yourself, and do what you can to meet those needs.

When this happens, you can live together in agreement before the Lord, and “wherever two or three are gathered” in His name, God is there with them. So make a choice with your spouse today to pursue agreement and unity before the Lord. ^[3]Joyce Meyer, https://www.bible.com/reading-plans/199-promises-for-your-everyday-life/day/360

How can one passage support such disparate meanings? Are any of those interpretations the true meaning of Matthew 18:18–20? Do they skirt around the edges of the author’s original intent, or are they missing the point of the passage altogether? Bottom line: Does this passage have anything to do with spiritual warfare, group prayer, or marital unity?

As with previous posts in this series, the first thing we should check is the context of our passage. What do the surrounding verses tell us about the meaning of our text? In this case, the preceding verses are likely just as familiar as the passage in question:

If your brother sins, go and show him his fault in private; if he listens to you, you have won your brother. But if he does not listen to you, take one or two more with you, so that by the mouth of two or three witnesses every fact may be confirmed. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. (Matthew 18:15–17)

Just a simple reading of the text makes it clear that the focus is not spiritual warfare, unity in marriage, or empowering your prayer meetings. Instead, verses 15–17 speak exclusively about church discipline.

Therefore, all of Christ’s instructions about binding and loosing, unity, and the promise of His presence come in the context of church discipline. In other words, Matthew 18:18–20 means that when church leaders gather together to deal with unrepentant sinners, they have heavenly backing.

In his commentary on this passage, John MacArthur explains how many of the popular interpretations go wrong when they divorce the verses from their context:

Jesus’ promises in verses 18 and 19 have suffered serious misinterpretation throughout the history of the church. . . . Many charismatics use these promises—along with others, such as those of Matthew 7:7 and 21:22—to claim from God every imaginable blessing and privilege just for the asking.

But in light of the context of what Jesus had just said, in the light of common rabbinical expressions of that day, and in light of the grammatical construction of the text, it is clear that He was not teaching that God’s power can be bent to men’s will. He was not saying that men can force heaven to do things. Quite to the contrary, His promise was that when His people bend their wills to His, He will endorse and empower their act of obedience.

Jesus was here continuing His instruction about church discipline. He was not speaking about petitioning God for special blessings or privileges, and even less was He teaching that the church or any of its leaders has power to absolve the sins of its members. He was declaring that the church has a divine mandate to discipline its members when they refuse to repent. ^[4]John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 16–23 (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 1988) 137.

And what about the power to bind and loose in the spiritual realm? John also carefully debunks that misinterpretation:

The rabbis sometimes spoke of a principle or action as being bound in heaven or loosed in heaven to indicate, respectively, that it was forbidden or permitted in light of God’s revealed Word. . . . Believers have authority to declare that sins are either forgiven or not forgiven when that declaration is based on the teaching of God’s Word. If a person has received Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord, the church can tell him with perfect confidence that his sins are loosed, that is, forgiven, because he has met God’s condition for forgiveness, namely, trust in His Son. If, on the other hand, a person refuses to receive Christ as Savior and acknowledge Him as Lord, the church can tell him with equal confidence that his sins are bound, that is, not forgiven, because he has not met God’s condition for forgiveness. ^[5] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 16–23, 137.

Matthew 18:15–17 is Christ’s explanation of how church discipline is to be practiced. Verses 18–20 expand on His instructions by informing us of the immense heavenly support provided to leaders who maintain the discipline of the church. Here’s how John MacArthur describes it:

Jesus also assures His people that He Himself acts with them when they work to purify the church: “For where two or three have gathered together in My name, there I am in their midst.” Not only does the Father confirm discipline when it is administered according to His Word, but the Son adds His own divine confirmation. . . . To use this statement to claim the Lord’s presence at a small worship service or prayer meeting does not fit the context of church discipline and is superfluous. Christ is always present with His people, even with a lone believer totally separated from fellow Christians by prison walls or by hundreds of miles.

The context demands that the two or three are witnesses in the process of discipline. To ask or to do anything in God’s name is not to utter His name but to ask and to work according to His divine will and character. For the witnesses to have gathered in His name is therefore for them to have faithfully performed their work of verifying the repentance or impenitence of a sinning brother or sister on the Lord’s behalf. When the church gathers in the Lord’s name and for His cause and glory, it must be engaged in self-purifying ministry under His power and authority, and with His heavenly confirmation and partnership. ^[6] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 16–23, 138.

One could make a case that the church’s silence on the issue of biblical discipline (Matthew 18:15-17) has allowed for a cacophony of misinterpretations and misapplications of Matthew 18:18-20. Ripped from their original setting and intent, those verses have been made to serve a variety of false positions and pretexts.

Our interpretation of Scripture has serious practical repercussions. We would all do well to receive Paul’s counsel to Timothy:  “Be diligent to present yourself approved to God as a workman who does not need to be ashamed, accurately handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15).

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on October 5, 2015. -ed.

Is it really “abuse” if a verse is used inaccurately to make an important point?

The short answer is, “Yes.” We should not be so careless and cavalier with Scripture, or think so highly of ourselves, that we can impose new meaning—even if it is valid—on the inerrant, sufficient Word of God. If the point is worth making, it’s worth making from the appropriate text.

Which brings us to the verse before us today: Revelation 3:20 is certainly one of the most familiar and frequently-quoted verses in the church. It’s a particular favorite for evangelists, camp preachers, and anyone else who wants to lend some urgency to the call of God on a sinner’s life

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me” (Revelation 3:20). In the hands of many preachers and evangelists, the verse paints an attractive, compelling picture of Christ’s pursuit of the sinner, and highlights the need for an immediate response.

But is that an accurate interpretation of the verse—is Christ truly at the doorstep of each sinner’s heart, pleading to come in? And if not, on whose door is the Lord knocking? Let’s tackle those issues one at a time.

Is Christ Knocking?

We use a lot of clichés as shorthand in the church, and not all of them are helpful or even accurate. For example, many Christians talk about “asking Jesus into your heart.” And while that phrase might have some vaguely biblical underpinnings, it doesn’t shed any light on what it truly means to repent and believe. If anything, it muddles the sinner’s responsibility in salvation; it dulls some of the sharp edges of the gospel.

In the same way, the common misapplication of Revelation 3:20 has done more harm than good. Yes, the mental image of Christ knocking on the door of a sinner’s heart is moving. But it’s not accurate—it’s a caricature at best, and it comes at a high theological cost.

Put simply, Christ isn’t pleading on every sinner’s spiritual doorstep. Jesus doesn’t need to beg or badger anyone into the kingdom of heaven (John 10:27-28). Salvation isn’t merely a matter of the Lord getting a foot inside the door of your heart—it’s a work of total transformation (Ezekiel 36:26). And most important of all, salvation is not triggered by an act of the sinner’s will—it is God’s intervening work that rescues us from the just penalty of our sin (Ephesians 2:4-9).

In fact, the abuse of Revelation 3:20 often goes hand-in-hand with talk of “asking Jesus into your heart” and other man-centered versions of the gospel message. One way to protect yourself and your evangelism from such skewed perspectives is to closely adhere to biblical language when you’re explaining the gospel.

And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. (Ephesians 2:1-9, emphasis added)

Train yourself to think about the gospel in those terms, and you’ll insulate yourself from the influence of man-centered theology, and the temptation to reinterpret God’s Word.

Whose Door?

The door in Revelation 3:20 was not a vague spiritual metaphor—it was a specific door. And while Christ wasn’t physically knocking, His words were directed to a specific group of people, and should not be watered down or applied carelessly to just anyone.

The context of Revelation 3:20 is Christ’s letter to the church at Laodicea—also known as the lukewarm church. In Revelation 3:14-22, the Lord condemns them for their spiritual self-deception and apathy. Christ says, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot” (v. 15). They did not openly reject Christ, but neither did they exhibit any spiritual zeal or authentic love for God or His Word. They professed to know Christ, but He had no place in their assembly.

And lost in their self-deception, they risked being spat out of God’s mouth altogether (v. 16). Their only hope was to truly repent (v. 19).

In the context of Revelation 3, then, Christ was standing at the door of the Laodicean church, eager to re-enter the congregation through the genuine repentance and salvation of its members. In his commentary on this passage, John MacArthur explains the imagery of verse 20:

Though this verse has been used in countless tracts and evangelistic messages to depict Christ’s knocking on the door of the sinner’s heart, it is broader than that. The door on which Christ is knocking is not the door to a single human heart, but to the Laodicean church. Christ was outside this apostate church and wanted to come in—something that could only happen if the people repented.

The invitation is, first of all, a personal one, since salvation is individual. But He is knocking on the door of the church, calling the many to saving faith, so that He may enter the church. If one person (anyone) opened the door by repentance and faith, Christ would enter that church through that individual. The picture of Christ outside the Laodicean church seeking entrance strongly implies that, unlike Sardis, there were no believers there at all.

Christ’s offer to dine with the repentant church speaks of fellowship, communion, and intimacy. Sharing a meal in ancient times symbolized the union of people in loving fellowship. Believers will dine with Christ at the marriage supper of the Lamb (Revelation 19:9), and in the millennial kingdom (Luke 22:16, 29-30). Dine is from deipneō, which refers to the evening meal, the last meal of the day. The Lord Jesus Christ urged them to repent and have fellowship with Him before the night of judgment fell and it was too late forever. ^[1] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Revelation 1-11 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1999) 140.

What does repentance look like? Far from merely opening the door of your heart to Christ, true repentance reflects the conviction of your sin and the deep desire for righteousness. Here’s how D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones defined this important doctrine:

Repentance means that you realize that you are a guilty, vile sinner in the presence of God, that you deserve the wrath and punishment of God, that you are hell-bound. It means that you begin to realize that this thing called sin is in you, that you long to get rid of it, and that you turn your back on it in every shape and form. You renounce the world whatever the cost, the world in its mind and outlook as well as its practice, and you deny yourself, and take up the cross and go after Christ. ^[2] D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Studies in the Sermon on the Mount (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974) 2:248.

The Urgent Call of the Gospel

When it comes to applying and interpreting Scripture, the details matter; good intentions are not enough. We bring the authority of Scripture to bear in sinners’ lives only inasmuch as we handle it accurately. We have a responsibility to the Lord, to each other, and to the unsaved world to proclaim the excellence, inerrancy, and sufficiency of the Bible. And we can’t fulfill that responsibility if we’re assigning our own meaning to God’s immutable truth.

With that in mind, you may still want to inject some urgency into the call to repent the next time you share the gospel with friends or family. Rather than falling back on a misappropriation of Christ’s words in Revelation, why not make a biblically sound argument? Here are a couple passages that convey the sinner’s urgent spiritual needs.

Isaiah preached to the apostate nation of Israel pleading with them to return to the Lord:

Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to the Lord, and He will have compassion on him, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon. (Isaiah 55:6-7)

And in Acts 17 Paul ended his gospel appeal to a crowd of philosophers with these words:

Therefore having overlooked the times of ignorance, God is now declaring to men that all people everywhere should repent, because He has fixed a day in which He will judge the world in righteousness through a Man whom He has appointed, having furnished proof to all men by raising Him from the dead. (Acts 17:30-31)

These and other passages (cf. Acts 2:37-40; Hebrews 4:6-7) can be rightly used to urge unbelievers or those lost in self-deception to respond to the gospel by repenting and turning to Christ. What good is our evangelistic zeal if we aren’t biblically sound?

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on October 9, 2015. -ed.

You wouldn’t tell your children, “Bathe regularly; if necessary, use water.”

Nor would you advise a friend, “Be a faithful husband; if necessary, love your wife.”

Those redundant instructions defy logic. They also beg the question about what other means you would employ to accomplish those goals. You might as well tell someone, “Stay alive; if necessary, breath oxygen.”

And yet many Christians rally around a similarly illogical statement when it comes to evangelism. “Preach the gospel; if necessary, use words,” is a mantra that is a darling of social gospel activists. That quote, wrongly attributed to Francis of Assisi, is wielded when it’s time to poke zealous evangelists in the eye, or rebrand social work as a form of evangelism. Social gospel advocates like Rick Warren ^[1] Rick Warren, 40 Days of Community: Better Together Devotional: What on Earth Are We Here For? (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2010) 61. and Jim Wallis ^[2] https://sojo.net/about-us/news/pope-francis-message-washington love to use it.

And let’s face it, there is a winsome ring of truth to the idea that my lifestyle can be a testimony of God’s saving work. Moreover, there is a built-in rebuke of evangelists who fail to walk their talk. Their hypocrisy—faith without works—is a reproach on God, His Word, and His people (James 2:14–17). But it’s absurd to turn that hypocrisy into an argument for the primacy of good works apart from the clear proclamation of the gospel.

The Necessity of Words

Paul never said, “How will they see without a preacher?” He said, “How will they hear without a preacher” (Romans 10:14). That is because every time the word “preach” appears in the New Testament it refers to vigorous verbal proclamation. It is verbal in its testimony of the works of a Savior who fulfilled the law that we have continually broken (Matthew 5:17–18; Romans 3:23), suffered the punishment that we could never bear (Isaiah 53:4–6; 1 Peter 2:24), and defeated the grave (2 Timothy 1:10; Hebrews 2:14).

And because Christ’s people depend entirely upon His unique work done on their behalf (2 Corinthians 5:21), there is no way to fully demonstrate it through actions alone. As Voddie Baucham points out: “For me to think that I can live the gospel is to put myself in the place of Christ.” ^[3] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Rd2WiYyDxs

So where does that leave works of social justice such as feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, and caring for the oppressed? No one would argue that they are bad things to do. Indeed James defines them as integral to pure religion (James 1:27). But do those acts of mercy have any role to play in a person’s salvation?

Advocates of the social gospel argue yes, and appeal to Matthew 25 as their apex argument:

Then the King will say to those on His right, “Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.” Then the righteous will answer Him, “Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?” The King will answer and say to them, “Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.”

Then He will also say to those on His left, “Depart from Me, accursed ones, into the eternal fire which has been prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry, and you gave Me nothing to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me nothing to drink; I was a stranger, and you did not invite Me in; naked, and you did not clothe Me; sick, and in prison, and you did not visit Me.” Then they themselves also will answer, “Lord, when did we see You hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not take care of You?” Then He will answer them, “Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.” These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life. (Matthew 25:34–46)

Was Jesus saying that our eternal destinies hinge on feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, clothing the naked, and visiting the oppressed? And how would that square with salvation by grace through faith apart from works (Ephesians 2:8-9)?

The Whole [Other] Gospel

Tony Campolo is one of the most prominent advocates for the social gospel. His handling of Matthew 25 typifies the wider movement. While not explicitly denying the gospel of grace alone, he argues that it is our treatment of the poor and oppressed that will determine our eternity:

I place my highest priority on the words of Jesus, emphasizing the 25th chapter of Matthew, where Jesus makes clear that on Judgment Day the defining question will be how each of us responded to those he calls “the least of these.” ^[4] http://tonycampolo.org/for-the-record-tony-campolo-releases-a-new-statement/#.Vg4Hbnh7DxM

The recently closed Evangelical Association for the Promotion of Education (EAPE), of which Campolo was founder and president, clearly defines who he thinks “the least of these” are:

That Jesus was homeless and taught that we may encounter Him in “the least of these”—the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, widow, stranger and imprisoned (Matthew 25:35-40), is the basis of what Tony calls the Whole Gospel and informs EAPE’s holistic ministry.  And it raises questions for the Church and every Christian: what should be our response to the homeless and to “the least of these”? ^[5] http://eape.org/tag/matthew-2535-40-rich-mullins/

Note Campolo’s use of the term “Whole Gospel.” He is implying that proclamation of the good news is only a partial gospel and must be accompanied by social action in order to become a complete or “whole” gospel. But his imbalanced emphasis betrays his mishandling of Matthew 25:35–40.

The Bible repeatedly teaches that good works are ultimately God’s works because they are the natural fruit of salvation; never the cause (cf. Ezekiel 36:25-27; James 2:14–17). And in Matthew 25 you don’t see judgment based on works, you see works revealing who is truly saved by faith. John MacArthur is emphatic on this point:

The good deeds commended in Matthew 25:35–36 are the fruit, not the root, of salvation. It cannot be emphasized too strongly that they are not the basis of entrance into the kingdom. Christ will judge according to works only insofar as those works are or are not a manifestation of redemption, which the heavenly Father has foreordained. If a person has not trusted in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, no amount of seemingly good works done in His name will avail to any spiritual benefit. ^[6] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 24–28 (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 1989) 122.

Who’s Who Among the Judged

Another critical issue in understanding Matthew 25 is to recognize that the division Christ makes is not between the church and the pagan world, but between true and false Christians. While the pagan lives in open unbelief, the false Christian is an imposter who has blended in among God’s people. False Christians are the recipients of Christ’s most terrifying judgment:

So then, you will know them by their fruits. Not everyone who says to Me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter. Many will say to Me on that day, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?” And then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness.” (Matthew 7:20–23)

Matthew 25:34-46 makes a similar division between those who have genuine faith and those whose faith is false, according to the evidence of their works. Note carefully that both groups of people think they are Christians because they address Jesus as “Lord” (Matthew 25:37, 44). Both groups are also surprised by the verdict. The surprise reveals humility among Christ’s people (“when did we,” Matthew 25:37–39) and self-righteousness among those who are faking it (“when did we . . . not,” Matthew 25:44).

Who’s Who Among the Lowly

Finally, the beneficiaries of these good works are not the disenfranchised people of the world, as Campolo suggests. The word “brothers” (Matthew 25:40) is vital to understanding where our benevolence is to be directed. Jesus is saying that the fruit of genuine faith is evidenced in the way we care for fellow believers who are suffering (cf. John 13:35; 1 John 3:10–11). MacArthur brings this point home:

The King’s addressing these people as brothers of Mine gives still further evidence that they are already children of God. . . . Because of their identity with Christ, they will often be hungry, thirsty, without decent shelter or clothing, sick, imprisoned, and alienated from the mainstream of society. ^[7] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 24–28, 124–125.

Conclusion

This is not to deny any duty we have to love the disenfranchised people of the world. But if proponents of the social gospel were serious about Scripture, they would target passages that refer to loving our neighbors—even loving our enemies (Matthew 22:39; 5:44). Christ’s words in Matthew 25 have nothing to do with the social justice they advocate. 

Matthew 25:34­–46 was never written as a blueprint for salvation through social work nor should it be employed as such. It’s not an argument for preaching the gospel through our actions alone, but rather that our actions authenticate the gospel we preach. And those actions must be prioritized towards our suffering fellow believers. So please, care for other believers because Jesus commanded us to. Realize that a lack of care may point to a lack of saving faith. And preach the gospel with words because they’re always necessary.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on February 10, 2016. -ed.

Next week will mark the second anniversary of Jamie Coots’s death. He was a father, pastor, and one of the stars of the National Geographic Channel’s reality series, Snake Salvation. The show followed Coots’s life and ministry as a prominent leader in a sect of Holiness Pentecostals who incorporate handling poisonous snakes into their worship in fulfilment of the promise of supernatural power and protection in Mark 16:17-18.

Coots died from a snakebite.

Snake handling—once popular throughout the Appalachian states—has dwindled to a tiny subculture of Pentecostals who believe in the practice of the extreme signs and wonders described in Mark 16:17-18. Specifically, they teach that they have the ability to cast out demons, speak in tongues, handle poisonous snakes, drink poison, and heal the sick (they also expose themselves to open flames, although that particular sign is not included in Mark’s gospel). And every couple years, the movement garners headlines because another pastor or congregant has died attempting to fulfill those supposed promises.

Virtually all other charismatics would disavow such extreme behavior, while holding just as tightly to the promises conveyed in the closing verses of Mark’s gospel—albeit more selectively.

For example, charismatic prosperity preacher Benny Hinn cites the passage in defense of his faith-healing ministry: “I knew the Lord had told me to pray for the sick as part of preaching the gospel, just as He told the disciples, in Mark 16:18: ‘They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.’” ^[1] Benny Hinn, The Anointing (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1997) 49.

And in his book When Heaven Invades Earth, Bill Johnson—pastor of Bethel Redding, one of the most influential charismatic churches in the country—points to the end of Mark’s gospel as a promise of God’s ongoing miraculous work.

As our ministry teams travel around the world, we have come to expect certain things. Healing, deliverance, and conversions are the fruits of our labors. While healing is seldom the subject we teach on, it is one of the most common results. As we proclaim the message of the Kingdom of God, people get well. The Father seems to say, Amen! To His own message by confirming the word with power (see Mark 16:20). ^[2] Bill Johnson, When Heaven Invades Earth (Shippensburg, PA: Treasure House, 2003) 89.

We could go on with examples of how charismatics of various traditions lean heavily on the closing verses of Mark’s gospel, but you get the point. For many it’s a foundational passage—one that explicitly promises all believers the power to perform signs and wonders.

But is that really the point of the passage? And more importantly, do those verses even belong in your Bible to begin with? Even a simple reading of the text raises some significant questions about its Scriptural authenticity.

Now after He had risen early on the first day of the week, He first appeared to Mary Magdalene, from whom He had cast out seven demons. She went and reported to those who had been with Him, while they were mourning and weeping. When they heard that He was alive and had been seen by her, they refused to believe it. After that, He appeared in a different form to two of them while they were walking along on their way to the country. They went away and reported it to the others, but they did not believe them either. Afterward He appeared to the eleven themselves as they were reclining at the table; and He reproached them for their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they had not believed those who had seen Him after He had risen. And He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation. He who has believed and has been baptized shall be saved; but he who has disbelieved shall be condemned. These signs will accompany those who have believed: in My name they will cast out demons, they will speak with new tongues; they will pick up serpents, and if they drink any deadly poison, it will not hurt them; they will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” So then, when the Lord Jesus had spoken to them, He was received up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God. And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them, and confirmed the word by the signs that followed. [And they promptly reported all these instructions to Peter and his companions. And after that, Jesus Himself sent out through them from east to west the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation.] (Mark 16:9-20)

As you can see, there are actually two endings to Mark’s gospel contained in the above quote. Verses 9-20 are referred to as the longer ending, while the portion in brackets at the end of verse 20 is called the shorter ending—on its own it would appear immediately after verse 8. Both have appeared individually in a variety of translations—the NASB includes both.

But neither ending appears in the earliest and most reliable New Testament manuscripts. No ancient book has been more carefully preserved than the Bible—we have several thousand manuscripts, with some dating all the way back to mere decades after they were first written. And through the science of textual analysis, scholars have determined that the final verses of Mark were not in the original, inspired text.    

On top of that, as John MacArthur explains in his commentary on the passage, there are also several internal indications that Mark didn’t write either ending.

First, the transition between verse 8 and verse 9 is awkward and disjointed. The conjunction now (from the Greek word de) implies continuity with the preceding narrative, but the focus of verse 9 abruptly shifts to Mary Magdalene rather than continuing a discussion of the women referred to in verse 8. Moreover, it would be strange for Mark to wait until the end of his narrative to introduce Mary Magdalene, as if for the first time . . . when she was already mentioned three times in the prior context (Mark 15:40, 47, 16:1). A similar discontinuity regards Peter, who is singled out in verse 7 yet not mentioned again in verses 9-20. The “shorter ending” . . . attempts to rectify those incongruities by highlighting both Peter and the other women. . . . But this shorter ending has even weaker manuscript evidence to support it than the longer ending.

Second, the vocabulary, style, and structure of the longer ending is not consistent with the rest of Mark’s gospel. There are eighteen words in this section that are not used elsewhere in Mark. For example, the title “Lord Jesus” is used here (v. 19) but is never used anywhere else in Mark’s account.

Third, the inclusion of apostolic signs does not fit the way the other three gospels conclude their accounts of the resurrection and ascension of Jesus Christ. Though many signs mentioned in this section parallel portions of the book of Acts (cf. Acts 2:4; 9:17; 10:46; 28:8), some are clearly without biblical support, such as being able to “pick up” venomous “serpents” (though perhaps loosely based on Paul’s experience in Acts 28:3-5) or “drink any deadly poison.” ^[3] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Mark 9-16 (Chicago: Moody Publishers, 2015) 411-412.

Summing up the case against the scriptural credentials of Mark 16:9-20, John MacArthur writes,

The evidence, both external and internal, conclusively demonstrates that verses 9-20 were not originally part of Mark’s inspired record. While they generally summarize truths taught elsewhere in the New Testament, they should always be evaluated in light of the rest of Scripture. No doctrines or practices should be established solely on them. The snake-handling preachers of the Appalachians provide a prime example of the errors that can arise from accepting these verses as authoritative.

Nonetheless, knowing that Mark 16:9-20 is not original should give believers more confidence in the accuracy of the New Testament, not less. As noted above, the science of textual analysis makes it possible for biblical scholars to identify the very few passages that were not part of the original. Such places are clearly marked in modern translations, making it easy for students of Scripture to identify them. Consequently, believers can approach the rest of the text with the settled assurance that the Bible they hold in their hands accurately reflects the original. ^[4] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Mark 9-16, 412.

That conclusion then begs the question: Where did these verses come from?

Most likely, they were added in by a scribe who felt Mark’s original ending was missing something. However, it does not appear that he was so audacious as to concoct an ending from his own imagination. Instead, Mark 16:9-20 is a patchwork quilt of other biblical passages concerning the life of Christ after His resurrection, His commissioning of the apostles, and stories from their ministry in the founding of the church.

Time and space don’t permit me to break down the probable origin of each verse, but let me encourage you to listen to John MacArthur’s sermon on the passage, called “The Fitting End to Mark’s Gospel,” or consult his commentary on Mark 9-16 for more details on how this extrabiblical passage was likely assembled.

And what of Mark’s original ending? Why was it deemed so deficient in the first place? True, it is abrupt and to the point: “They went out and fled from the tomb, for trembling and astonishment had gripped them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid” (Mark 16:8). But as John MacArthur explains, that abrupt ending perfectly fits both Mark’s style and his purpose for writing at all.

Mark’s ending is abrupt but it is not incomplete. The tomb was empty; the angelic announcement explained that Jesus had risen; and multiple eyewitnesses confirmed those events. The purpose of Mark’s gospel was to demonstrate that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God (Mark 1:1). Having amply made that point, no further proof was necessary.

Throughout his gospel, Mark consistently punctuated key events in the life of the Lord Jesus by emphasizing the wonder He evoked in the hearts and minds of others. Mark simply moves from one point of amazement about Christ to the next. So the narrative ends where it ought to end. It climaxes with amazement and bewilderment at the resurrection of the crucified Savior (cf. John 20:31). In so doing, it leaves the reader in a place of wonder, awe, and worship, centered on its glorious subject: the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God. ^[5] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Mark 9-16, 417-418.

So while Mark 16:9-20 may be a significant proof text for many charismatics, their interpretation is invalidated when we understand that those verses never belonged in Scripture to begin with.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on February 12, 2016. -ed.

All over the world, on any given day of the week, Jesus Christ’s body is repeatedly sacrificed. According to the Roman Catholic Church, that’s what happens every time they celebrate the Mass—their version of Communion, or the Lord’s Table.

In The Faith of Millions—a book certified by the Roman Catholic Church to be “free of doctrinal and moral error”—Catholic priest John O’Brien explains what happens during the Mass:

When the priest pronounces the tremendous words of consecration, he reaches up into the heavens, brings Christ down from His throne, and places Him upon our altar to be offered up again as the Victim for the sins of man. It is a power greater than that of monarchs and emperors: it is greater than that of saints and angels, greater than that of Seraphim and Cherubim. Indeed it is greater even than the power of the Virgin Mary. While the Blessed Virgin was the human agency by which Christ became incarnate a single time, the priest brings Christ down from heaven, and renders Him present on our altar as the eternal Victim for the sins of man—not once but a thousand times! The priest speaks and lo! Christ, the eternal and omnipotent God, bows His head in humble obedience to the priest’s command. ^[1] Rev. John A. O’Brien, The Faith of Millions, revised ed. (Huntington, IN: Our Sunday Visitor, Inc., 1974) 255–56.

The supposed ability to wield such supernatural power over almighty God is one of the priesthood’s most blasphemous acts. As O’Brien describes it, the priestly office is a position of immense, even ultimate power, as the priest yanks Christ out of His eternal kingdom and hurls Him once again onto the sacrificial altar.

The repeated sacrificial process is called transubstantiation, wherein the bread and wine transform into the literal body and blood of Christ. It may sound cannibalistic and creepy, but they argue that it’s what the Bible actually teaches:

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink. He who eats My flesh and drinks My blood abides in Me, and I in him. (John 6:53­–56)

But is that really what Jesus meant by those graphic words? Was He truly prescribing the repeated and violent sacrifice of His physical body? Is that what Christ intended when He instituted Communion?

The simple answer is, No.

Linking Christ’s discourse in John 6 with the Lord’s Table is a significant leap. The events described in John 6 took place during His ministry in Galilee—it would be roughly a year before He and His disciples would meet in the Upper Room.

And even then, there are significant flaws with the Catholic interpretation. Apologist James McCarthy makes a salient point regarding Jesus’ physical body and the institution of the Lord’s Table. He notes that when Jesus referred to the bread, saying “This is my body” (Matthew 26:26), He was physically present with the disciples. McCarthy rightly observes: “Surely they would not have thought that Jesus’ body was both at the table and on the table.” ^[2] James G. McCarthy, The Gospel According to Rome (Eugene, OR: Harvest House, 1995) 135–36.

In his commentary on John’s gospel, John MacArthur compellingly refutes any connection between Jesus’ words in John 6:53­–56 and the celebration of the Lord’s Table:

It should be noted that the Roman Catholic Church appeals to this passage as a proof of the doctrine of transubstantiation—the false teaching that the body and blood of Christ are literally present in the bread and wine of the Mass. Catholic theologian Ludwig Ott writes, “The body and the blood of Christ together with His soul and His divinity and therefore the whole Christ are truly present in the Eucharist” (Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma [St. Louis: B. Herder, 1954], 382). It is a false foundation for a false doctrine, however, to suggest that Jesus was referring to the Eucharist (Communion or the Lord’s Table) here, since He used the word sarx (flesh). A different word, sōma (“body”), appears in the passages referring to Communion (Matthew 26:26; Mark 14:22; Luke 22:19; 1 Corinthians 10:16; 11:24, 27). Two additional considerations reinforce the fact that this passage does not refer to Communion: First, the Lord’s Table had not yet been instituted; therefore, the Jews would not have understood what Jesus was talking about if He were speaking of Communion. Second, Jesus said that anyone who partakes of His flesh has eternal life. If that was a reference to the Lord’s Table, it would mean that eternal life could be gained through taking Communion. That is clearly foreign to Scripture, however, which teaches that Communion is for those who are already believers (1 Corinthians 11:27–32) and that salvation is by faith alone (Ephesians 2:8–9). ^[3] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: John 1–11 (Chicago: Moody Press, 2006) 259–60.

And the disconnect between Scripture and the Catholic Mass runs far deeper than the nature of the elements. The author of Hebrews repeatedly states that Christ’s atoning sacrifice was a “once for all” event never to be repeated:

By this will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all. Every priest stands daily ministering and offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins; but He, having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time onward until His enemies be made a footstool for His feet. For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. (Hebrews 10:10­–14)

There is simply no way to harmonize the idea of Christ being repeatedly sacrificed when the New Testament clearly spells out the singularity and sufficiency of Christ’s perfect atoning sacrifice.

What’s clear is that no amount of contorting Scripture will create any endorsement of the Roman Catholic Mass. From every angle, it is biblically indefensible.

But that doesn’t give us an answer for what Jesus actually meant in John 6:53-56 regarding eating His flesh and drinking His blood. As with most interpretive challenges in Scripture, clarity is found in the surrounding context. And in this case, Christ’s statement makes a lot more sense when you read the whole chapter.

John 6 begins with Christ’s feeding of the five thousand (John 6:1–14). That miracle immediately won Him enormous popularity in a place where food was hard to come by. Jesus, knowing His kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36), had to go into isolation to avoid the masses from installing Him as king in Herod’s place (John 6:15). Instead of capitalizing on His popularity and ability to draw a large crowd, Jesus saw it as a hindrance to His larger mission.

But a free lunch is nothing to be sneezed at, especially among the poor, so the crowds continued to pursue Christ with hopes of more bounty. Jesus was acutely aware of their superficial faith and told them, “You seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled. Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life” (John 6:26–27).

A lengthy dialogue then followed where Jesus continually urged the crowds to move beyond their temporal hunger and seek eternal sustenance. But His audience relentlessly pled with Him to prove His messiahship through a sign that involved food—hinting at the manna God provided the Israelites when they were wandering in the wilderness  (John 6:31).

Jesus contrasted that perishable “bread out of heaven” (John 6:31–32) with Himself, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst” (John 6:35). In His immense patience with their unbelief, the Lord repeated that same point in an increasingly explicit manner:

I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread which comes down out of heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh. (John 6:48–51)

Jesus’ audience remained oblivious to what He was really talking about. That’s why He chose such provocative language as His discourse drew to a close. Dr. James White facetiously refers to Christ’s severe terminology and ghastly imagery in John 6:53-56 as “the beginning of the church shrinkage movement.” And with good reason; after Jesus spoke those words many of His disciples abandoned Him (John 6:66).

Their departure was by design. The Lord was determined to drive away followers who were nothing more than shallow hangers-on. Instead of capitalizing on His popularity, He saw it as a hindrance to His mission.

His message was clear: Temporal bread would only sustain them temporarily. They needed to eat eternal bread—flesh and blood—to live eternally. John MacArthur explains the significance of Christ’s metaphor in his sermon, I Am the Bread of Life:

If you want eternal life, eating is necessary. . . . You can’t just come and admire. You have to eat, which is to believe fully. But eating is in response to hunger. So, the people who eat are the people who are what? Hungry! What is hunger? It’s the aching of the heart of one who knows he’s empty. That’s the work of the Holy Spirit to make the heart hungry. That’s where the Father starts to draw. The hungry heart sees the bread. . . .

Eating is personal. It’s not a group event. You can all go out to dinner, but the food has to go in your mouth. Lots of people can do lots of things for you. They can come over and change the curtains, fix the room. People can do a lot of things to help you. You have to eat. You can’t do that by proxy. Eating is necessary. Eating is in response to hunger. Eating is personal and eating is transformational. If you don’t eat physically, you will die. If you eat, the food you take in transforms you, and that’s what Christ does.

The simple truth is our physical food cannot change our eternal destiny—not even the gruesome rituals of the Catholic Mass. Eating the body and blood of Christ was a necessary way for Him to express to an audience fixated on their physical hunger the need for all people to find salvation—to satisfy their spiritual hunger—through Him.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on February 19, 2016. -ed.

Tim Tebow was featured on the cover of the July 27, 2009 issue of Sports Illustrated, decked out in his Florida Gators uniform. But what made the image so striking was the message written in Tebow’s eye black—under his right eye was the word “Phil,” and under his left the numbers “4:13.”

That inscription may have been meaningless to the average football fanatic, but Tebow’s large evangelical constituency certainly recognized it as Bible reference. As he explained years later in an interview, he chose Philippians 4:13 because “‘There’s not a better verse for an athlete.’ It reads, ‘I can do all this [sic] through Him who gives me strength.’” ^[1] http://www.christianpost.com/news/tim-tebow-explains-why-he-tebows-uses-bible-verses-70824/#96Qczp0O7LZR8jsT.99

It’s not hard to understand the gravitational pull a verse like that could have on an athlete. No doubt countless men and women invoke God’s power for their various feats of strength and stamina. Even Jon Jones—a notorious MMA fighter who pummels people for a living—has it tattooed across his chest.

And in this era of unbridled self-esteem, who wouldn’t want the power of God enabling and animating the fulfilment of his hopes and dreams? Celebrity pastor, Joel Osteen, does nothing to quench such optimism and enthusiasm.

It is possible to see your dreams fulfilled. It is possible to overcome that obstacle. It is possible to climb to new heights. It is possible to embrace your destiny. You may not know how it will all take place. You may not have a plan, but all you have to know is that if God said you can . . . you can! Today, why don’t you begin to open yourself up to possibilities in your future by simply declaring this verse, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength?” ^[2] http://devotion.wedaretobelieve.com/2013/01/i-can-joel-osteen-ministries-daily.html

Osteen’s interpretation begs an important question about Philippians 4:13. When Paul wrote that he—and by extension, we—can “do all things” through Christ’s strength, was he promising victory and success in all our personal endeavors? Does “all things” essentially mean anything we want? And if so, why does any Christian ever fail at anything?

The preceding verses make Paul’s true intent quite clear:

Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:11–13).

Christ’s strength wasn’t just a vague force enabling Paul to whatever ends he desired. It strengthened Paul to be content in spite of the harsh difficulties he faced. He wasn’t talking about hypothetical goals, but about the very real adversity he faced on a daily basis.

Specifically, he was talking about his unfair imprisonment at the time of his writing to the Philippian believers. Here’s how he described it at the beginning of his epistle:

Now I want you to know, brethren, that my circumstances have turned out for the greater progress of the gospel, so that my imprisonment in the cause of Christ has become well known throughout the whole praetorian guard and to everyone else, and that most of the brethren, trusting in the Lord because of my imprisonment, have far more courage to speak the word of God without fear. (Philippians 1:12–14) 

Paul wrote that he could do all things through Christ strengthening him when he was confined to the squalor and oppression of a Roman prison cell. And through his divine strengthening, He was able to look beyond his own suffering and rejoice in the gospel’s furtherance as a result of his imprisonment.

Paul never “discovered the champion” in himself, nor did he long for the fulfillment of his personal dreams. His delight was in extending the reach and influence of the gospel, and he labored to that end whether he was free or incarcerated. He was the benchmark of suffering for the sake of the gospel (2 Corinthians 11:23–33), and he rejoiced in the strength Christ gave him to endure all of it. John MacArthur elaborates:

No matter how difficult his struggles may have been, Paul had a spiritual undergirding, an invisible means of support. His adequacy and sufficiency came from his union with the adequate and sufficient Christ: “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me” (Galatians 2:20). . . . Paul was strong enough to endure anything through Him who strengthen[ed] him. . . . What he is saying is that when he reached the limit of his resources and strength, even to the point of death, he was infused with the strength of Christ. He could overcome the most dire physical difficulties because of the inner, spiritual strength God had given him. ^[3] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Philippians (Chicago: Moody Press, 2001) 303.

Philippians 4:13 doesn’t lose any relevance just because we’re not allowed to define “all things” as everything we want to do. On the contrary, Paul’s example of suffering has the broadest possible application for Christians: “All who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Timothy 3:12 NKJV, emphasis added). Suffering shouldn’t come as a surprise to the Christian. Whether or not we end up in a prison cell like Paul, we can embrace Philippians 4:13 as he did—the promise of Christ’s strength to endure all suffering for His sake.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on August 17, 2016. -ed.

Most of us have heard of faith healers. They exist almost exclusively within the charismatic movement and claim to be divinely gifted to supernaturally heal the sick.

For these miracle workers to have any longevity—some of them have thriving ministries that last for decades—they need to develop the illusion of legitimacy. Sensational claims and spectacular crusades certainly play a role in drawing an enthusiastic crowd. But enthusiasm only gets you so far; they also require a façade of biblical authority. And for many of these false teachers, Isaiah 53:5 is the go-to verse, ripped from its context and contorted to fit their self-serving interpretation.

But He was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities;
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
And by His stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5, NKJV) 

Isaiah 53 is the most renowned Old Testament passage on Christ’s atoning work. John MacArthur refers to it as “the first gospel” or The Gospel According to God. It contains vivid and precise prophetic imagery concerning Christ’s suffering and crucifixion. And the “stripes” mentioned in verse five refer to the lashes Christ received at the hands of Roman soldiers.

Word-Faith charismatic teachers routinely claim that Isaiah 53:5 is proof that physical healing is inherent in the atonement—that it was won by Christ’s physical suffering. For example, Joseph Prince argues that physical healing is the right of all believers—something they can simply “confess” into reality:

But what came on [Jesus] was not just the whip stripping the flesh off His bare back, but your sicknesses and diseases. Each time He was whipped, every form of sickness and disease, including arthritis, cancer, diabetes, bird flu and dengue fever, came upon Him. “The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.”

Today, healing is your right because Jesus has paid the price for your healing. So if the devil says, “You cannot be healed,” just declare, “Jesus has paid for my healing. Disease has no right to be in my body. I am healed in Jesus’ name!”

Every curse of sickness that was supposed to fall on you fell on Jesus instead. He bore every one of those stripes, so that you can walk in divine health all the days of your life. The price has been paid so that you can rise up and get out of your bed of affliction! ^[1] http://www.josephprince.org/daily-grace/grace-inspirations/single/by-jesus-stripes-you-are-healed

Prince’s view of the atonement is really only a potential atonement. It doesn’t actually deliver you from sickness but rather gives you the ability to “rise up and get out of your bed of affliction.” And how do you activate the atonement to receive the healing that’s rightfully yours? Kenneth Hagin’s testimony provides the answer.

Hagin staked the credibility of his healing ministry on 1 Peter 2:24—a New Testament quotation of Isaiah 53:5—and his claims regarding his personal experience of divine healing:

Some years ago, I was awakened at 1:30 A.M. with severe symptoms in my heart and chest. I knew something about such symptoms because I had been bedfast and given up to die with a heart condition as a teenager.

The Devil said to my mind, “You’re going to die. This is one time you’re not going to get your healing.” I pulled the covers over my head and began to laugh. I didn’t feel like laughing, but I just laughed anyway for about ten minutes. Finally, the Devil asked me what I was laughing about.

“I’m laughing at you!” I said. “You said I wasn’t going to get my healing. Ha, ha, Mr. Devil. I don’t expect to get my healing! Jesus already got it for me! Now, in case you can’t read, I’ll quote 1 Peter 2:24 for you.” And I did.

After quoting the last phrase, “By whose stripes ye were healed,” I said, “Now if we were—I was! So I don’t have to get it. Jesus already got it! And because Jesus got it for me, I accept it, and claim it, and I have it. Now you just gather up your little symptoms and get out of here, Mr. Devil!” ^[2] Kenneth E. Hagin, Faith Food Devotions (Tulsa, OK: Faith Library Publications, 1998) Page unknown.

For Hagin, and countless other Word-Faith preachers like him, supernatural healings need only to be spoken into reality. Joyce Meyer expands on that idea, arguing that Satan is involved in the illegal activity of inflicting “sickness on us, and there is no good reason to let him do it.”

How do you stand against sickness? For starters, plead the blood of Jesus against the sickness and over every part of your body—your immune system, your organs, your blood cells and so on. Then speak the Word over your body. You can pray, “Father, I believe it’s Your will that I be in health. I believe that by the stripes of Jesus, I am healed. Your Word is health and life to my body, and it will accomplish that which You please and purpose.” ^[3] http:/www.joycemeyer.org/OurMinistries/Magazine/0703/Healing+and+Wholeness.htm

So according to Joyce Meyer, healing is a right but it isn’t always fait accompli for the Christian. It’s something that’s been provided for believers, but they need to successfully claim it. It needs to be confessed into reality—spoken into existence through the power of faith. Like Joseph Prince, Meyer describes a potential atonement that requires our activation. That’s a cruel doctrine to inflict on Christians who have sought healing but continue to spend their lives in wheelchairs, on respirators, and under medication.

The belief that Christ’s physical suffering somehow guarantees our physical healing in this life isn’t merely an abuse of Scripture—it’s a form of mental and spiritual torture to those who sit under such false teaching. It’s a lie that has left many churchgoers disappointed with the gospel. Rather than longing for their heavenly home, they are gripped by unrealized expectations in the here and now. The sickness they struggle with leaves them feeling like failures who lack the necessary faith to claim the healing that’s rightfully theirs.

The fact that everyone still dies should be proof enough that on this side of eternity all people are still subject to Adam’s curse. Sickness is a very real part of life in this fallen world, and no amount of claiming divine health is going to change that. Even the disciples of the early church didn’t rebuke their physical ailments into oblivion—they dealt with them as best they could like everybody else.

Paul left Trophimus behind during one of his missionary journeys because of illness (2 Timothy 4:20). He recommended wine to Timothy for his “stomach and [his] frequent ailments” (1 Timothy 5:23). Epaphroditus got so sick he nearly died (Philippians 2:25–27). And sometimes God sent sickness to discipline members of His church (1 Corinthians 11:29–32).

So what does Isaiah 53:5 promise Christians if it’s not an offer of immediate, unblemished health for all Christians? John MacArthur sheds clear light on the matter in his commentary on 1 Peter 2:24 (which, noted earlier, quotes from Isaiah 53:5):

Christ died for believers to separate them from sin’s penalty, so it can never condemn them. The record of their sins, the indictment of guilt that had them headed for hell, was “nailed to the cross” (Colossians 2:12–14). Jesus paid their debt to God in full. In that sense, all Christians are freed from sin’s penalty. They are also delivered from its dominating power and made able to live to righteousness (cf. Romans 6:16–22).

Peter describes this death to sin and becoming alive to righteousness as a healing: by His wounds you were healed. This too is borrowed from the Old Testament prophet when he wrote “by His scourging we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5). Wounds is a better usage than “scourging” since the latter may give the impression that the beating of Jesus produced salvation. Both Isaiah and Peter meant the wounds of Jesus that were part of the execution process. Wounds is a general reference—a synonym for all the suffering that brought Him to death. And the healing here is spiritual, not physical. Neither Isaiah nor Peter intended physical healing as the result in these references to Christ’s sufferings. Physical healing for all who believe does result from Christ’s atoning work, but such healing awaits a future realization in the perfections of heaven. In resurrection glory, believers will experience no sickness, pain, suffering, or death (Revelation 21:1–4; 22:1–3). ^[4] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: 1 Peter (Chicago: Moody Press, 2004) 171–72.

To be fair, Matthew’s gospel does seem to make a connection between Isaiah 53:5 and physical healings that occurred during Christ’s earthly ministry:

They brought to Him many who were demon-possessed; and He cast out the spirits with a word, and healed all who were ill. This was to fulfill what was spoken through Isaiah the prophet: “He Himself took our infirmities and carried away our diseases.” (Matthew 8:16–17)

But was Christ’s healing ministry His end game, or did it point to an eternal cure? After all, the people he healed still died. Lazarus was raised from the dead, but he still eventually died again. People were healed but the curse wasn’t reversed. Jesus died for the sins of men, but men still continued to sin. He defeated death but His followers continued to die. There is an ultimate fulfillment of Christ’s atoning work that will not be realized this side of eternity (Romans 8:22–25). That’s why John MacArthur rightly observes:

Those who claim that Christians should never be sick because there is healing in the atonement should also claim that Christians should never die, because Jesus also conquered death in the atonement. The central message of the gospel is deliverance from sin. It is the good news about forgiveness, not health. Christ was made sin, not disease, and He died on the cross for our sin, not our sickness. As Peter makes clear, Christ’s wounds heal us from sin, not from disease. “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Peter 2:24). ^[5] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Matthew 8–15 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1987) 19.

There is healing in Christ’s atonement but it’s obviously not fully realized in the present. Christians and non-Christians alike still feel the effects of the curse, and will ultimately die. Our ultimate perfect healing is certain, but it awaits us in the same way that we still await our resurrection bodies. And that shouldn’t bring disappointment to this present life. Rather, it is a glorious future reality for us to anticipate with great joy.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on August 19, 2016. -ed.

Sometimes you know what the sermon is going to be before the pastor even says a word. Certain Bible stories and Scripture passages naturally lead to familiar principles and well-worn applications. It’s not always easy to fight off that arrogant “Been There, Done That” feeling—especially for those of us who grew up in the church.

This passage from Luke’s gospel might prompt a similar response at first glance. Luke records a familiar vignette from the days leading up to Christ’s arrest and execution.

And [Jesus] looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the treasury. And He saw a poor widow putting in two small copper coins. And He said, “Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all of them; for they all out of their surplus put into the offering; but she out of her poverty put in all that she had to live on.” (Luke 21:1-4)

You might expect a sermon on that passage to be a short treatise on self-denial, selflessness, humility, sacrificial giving, or vows of poverty—or some other point that is routinely wrung out of those verses. But as John MacArthur explains in his commentary on Luke’s gospel, those meanings and applications are utterly foreign to what is commonly known as the story of “The Widow’s Mites.”

All those ideas, however, are imposed on the narrative; Jesus drew no principle regarding giving from her behavior. The text does not record that He condemned the rich for their giving, or commended the widow for hers. There is no judgment made regarding the true nature of her act, nor is anything said about her attitude, or the spirit in which her gift was given. Since Jesus made no point about giving, neither should the interpreter. ^[1] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Luke 18-24 (Chicago: Moody Publishers 2014), 168.

That might come as a shock to you—it certainly did to me when I first heard John’s sermon on this passage (titled “Abusing the Poor”). But in spite of seemingly universal agreement that this brief passage applies to the act and attitude of our giving, that’s simply not the point of the story.

It is not, as many suggest, a sweet little sidebar about God’s pleasure in our self-sacrifice. If it was, that meaning would be explicit in Christ’s words. It is simply bad hermeneutics to infer, suppose, or jump to conclusions about the point of this passage that extend beyond Christ’s recorded words.

Moreover, if you’re determined to make these verses a lesson about giving—that is, if you interpret Christ’s statement as an affirmation of the widow’s gift—the only legitimate point you can draw from the text is that God wants you to give absolutely everything you have, and resign yourself to a life of destitution. And we know that’s not biblical, because God’s Word is clear elsewhere about the importance of being a good steward with your money.

In fact, the only instance when Christ ever told anyone to give away everything they had was during His conversation with the rich young ruler (Matthew 19:21). And we know that the Lord’s words were not a prescription for an alternate means of salvation or a pattern for giving, but a test of the young man’s true affections.

So if this anecdote from Luke’s gospel has nothing to do with giving, what is the point? Why did Luke and the Holy Spirit include it in this gospel account?

The first step to making sense of Luke 21:1-4 is to understand that these verses do not represent a change of topic or train of thought—that they belong in the immediate context of everything Christ said before and after the widow deposited her offering.

We need to remind ourselves from time to time that, while the words of Scripture were directly inspired by the Holy Spirit, the chapter and verse numbers are not. In this case, the chapter break inserts a speed bump into Luke’s gospel that the apostle never intended. The verses immediately prior (Luke 20:45-47) contain Christ’s scathing critique and condemnation on the Jewish religious elite.

And while all the people were listening, He said to the disciples, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and love respectful greetings in the market places, and chief seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets, who devour widows’ houses, and for appearance’s sake offer long prayers. These will receive greater condemnation.”

And who were the scribes? Here’s how John MacArthur explains their place in first-century Israel:

Not all Pharisees were scribes, but the scribes were primarily Pharisees, who were interpreters and teachers of the law of Moses and the traditional rabbinic writings. Their teaching provided the theological framework for the Pharisees’ legalistic system of works-righteousness. The scribes were the dominant force in Judaism, not only theologically, but socially. Their views affected every aspect of life, and they also handled all legal matters, including property, estates, and contracts. They were revered, and given the respectful title of Rabbi (Matthew 23:7). ^[2] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Luke 18-24, 163.

The influence the scribes wielded was corrupted on several fronts, and their hypocrisy infected the entire nation. Christ’s criticism emphasized several examples of their overweening pride. But their corruption wasn’t limited to haughtiness and self-promotion. As John MacArthur explains,

[Jesus also exposed] a more sinister aspect of their hypocrisy—their rapacious greed that led them to prey on the most defenseless members of society. That the scribes would stoop so low as to “devour widows’ houses” graphically illustrates the intense desire for wealth that characterizes false teachers (cf. Micah 3:5, 11; 2 Peter 2:1-3, 14). . . . The Old Testament teaches that widows are to be protected and cared for (Exodus 22:22; Deuteronomy 10:18; 14:29; 24:17-21; 27:19; Psalm 68:5; 146:9; Proverbs 15:25; Isaiah 1:17; Jeremiah 22:3; Zechariah 7:10), but the scribes consumed their meager resources. They took advantage of their hospitality, cheated them out of their estates, mismanaged their property, and took their houses as pledges for debts that they could never repay. ^[3] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Luke 18-24, 166.

The moment Jesus finished denouncing the scribes for “devouring widows’ houses” (Luke 20:47), His audience saw the reality of His words borne out in vivid, tragic detail. The widow’s offering was a devastating illustration of the wicked religious system Christ had just condemned. Through her final offering, this widow succumbed to an institutionalized scheme of works-righteousness that had bled her dry. In fact, it likely killed her, as Scripture tells us she gave up “all that she had to live on” (Luke 21:4) in her last-ditch effort to obtain a blessing.

In that sense, her gift was not an example for us to follow but a warning about how false religion preys on people.

As the story of this widow reveals, deceptive, self-righteous religion preys on the weak, the desperate, and the defenseless. Far from being pleased with her giving, Jesus was angry that the so-called worship she had bought into had taken her last cent. The Lord would go on to pronounce judgment on that very apostate Judaism in the next section. [See Luke 21:5-6; and for a more in-depth study of Christ’s condemnation, see John MacArthur’s sermon “Abusive Religion.”]

Money has always been at the heart of satanic religion (cf. Luke 16:14; 19:46; 1 Peter 5:2), consequently abuse of the poor by false religious systems has continued from our Lord’s day to our own. ^[4] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Luke 18-24, 170.

The corruption of first-century Judaism ought to sound familiar to us. Countless men and women today likewise give what little money they have—and often more than they can afford—to prosperity preachers, faith healers, and other religious hucksters in search of physical and financial blessings. Christian television is dominated by ministries that make outrageous promises of health and wealth if viewers will only first “sow a seed” of financial faith into their coffers. But the only ones who ever get rich are the vile false teachers themselves, while more and more people fall for their lies.

Just as Christ warned His disciples about the danger the scribes presented, we need to be bold and faithful about calling out the wolves who prey on people in God’s name. We need to be clear about what God’s Word says in all matters, and what it doesn’t—leaving these charlatans no room to operate their blasphemous Ponzi schemes.

That’s the lesson we need to take away from the story of this widow—that God’s people cannot idly stand by while false teachers twist the truth and line their pockets in God’s name. We need to be outraged when wolves attempt to fleece God’s flock. And we need to protect and care for those who are most susceptible to their lies.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. Of our previous blog series, none better embodies that emphasis than Frequently Abused Verses. The following entry from that series originally appeared on April 5, 2017. -ed.

The prosperity gospel is neither a small nor isolated error. The fixation with money and material riches pervades the theology of its adherents, corrupting every aspect of their faith and doctrine. It is a comprehensive lie—one that skews the very nature of the gospel itself, distorting even the Person and work of Christ.

In particular, it assaults the nature of Christ’s atoning work on our behalf. Forgiveness of sins and imputed righteousness are of minor importance at best. Instead, prosperity preachers teach a version of the atonement that serves their material interests. And it all hinges on one verse: “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you through His poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9).

Here’s how TBN televangelist Joseph Prince explains it:

On the cross, Jesus bore the curse of poverty! That is what the Word of God declares: “For you know the grace [unmerited favor] of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich.” Read 2 Corinthians 8 for yourself. The entire chapter is about money and being a blessing financially to those who are in need. So don’t let anyone tell you that the verse is referring to ‘spiritual’ riches.” ^[1] Joseph Prince, Unmerited Favor: Your Supernatural Advantage for a Successful Life (Lake Mary, FL: Charisma House, 2010), 29.

Prince is partly right—2 Corinthians 8 is about blessing others financially. But his fixation with money forces him to overlook the obvious flaw in his argument—that Paul was exhorting the Corinthians to give for the sake of other Christians in need. Apparently they had not been—as Prince promised his readers—delivered from “the curse of poverty.”

In verse 1 Paul commends the Macedonian Christians for the “wealth of their liberality” that flowed out of their “deep poverty.” Likewise, in verse 7 Paul reminds the Corinthians of their own spiritual riches: “Just as you abound in everything, in faith and utterance and knowledge and in all earnestness and in the love we inspired in you, see that you abound in this gracious [giving] work also.” The Corinthians and Macedonians were wealthy in many ways, just not in the specific way Joseph Prince is.   

Phil Pringle, another prosperity preacher and founder of the gigantic C3 Church in Sydney, Australia, leaves no doubt about his interpretation of 2 Corinthians 8:9—going so far as to offer his own paraphrase: “Jesus became poor regarding the wealth of this world on the cross, that those who receive Him may become rich with the wealth of this world.” ^[2] Phil Pringle, Dead for Nothing?: What the Cross Has Done for You (Tulsa, OK: Harrison House, 2007), 58.

Such is the corruption and greed of men like Prince and Pringle, that no subject is off limits in their quest to sanitize and sanctify their perverse love of money. At best, they minimize the forgiveness of sin and the imputation of Christ’s righteousness at the expense of physical health and material wealth. At worst, they do away with the spiritual components of Christ’s atoning work altogether.

That self-absorbed theology collapses under biblical scrutiny. John MacArthur points out the true nature of Christ’s earthly poverty:

This verse is not a commentary on Jesus’ economic status or the material circumstances of His life. . . . The Lord’s true impoverishment did not consist in the lowly circumstances in which He lived but in the reality that “although He existed in the form of God, [He] did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men” (Philippians 2:6–7). ^[3] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: 2 Corinthians (Chicago: Moody Press, 2003), 291–92.

Christ was not a wealthy man, but He wasn’t especially poor, either. The poverty He endured was in contrast to the vast heavenly riches He willingly set aside during His incarnation:

Though as God, Jesus owns everything in heaven and on earth (Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 10:14; Job 41:11; Psalm 24:1; 50:12; 1 Corinthians 10:26), His riches do not consist primarily of what is material. The riches in view here are those of Christ’s supernatural glory, His position as God the Son, and His eternal attributes. . . . As the eternal second person of the Trinity, Jesus is as rich as God the Father. To the Colossians Paul wrote, “For in Him [Jesus] all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form” (Colossians 2:9), and “[Jesus] is the radiance of [God’s] glory and the exact representation of His nature” (Hebrews 1:3). Arguments for Christ’s eternity and deity are inseparable. Since the Scriptures reveal Him to be eternal, and only God can be eternal, Jesus must be God. Therefore, He owns the universe and everything in it, possesses all power and authority (Matthew 28:18), and is to be glorified and honored (John 5:23; Philippians 2:9–11). ^[4]The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: 2 Corinthians, 289–90.

Therefore, the riches Christ offers us surpass anything this world can offer. Material blessings don’t merely pale in comparison—they fade into oblivion when contrasted with the vast spiritual riches the Lord supplies. Justification, reconciliation, sanctification, and, eventually, glorification—the eternal benefits of salvation are beyond our comprehension. Peter described them as “an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for [believers]” (1 Peter 1:4).

And as John MacArthur explains, these are the riches we most desperately require:

Sinners desperately need the riches of Christ because they are spiritually destitute. They are the “poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3), beggars with nothing to commend themselves. But through salvation, believers are made “heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Romans 8:17), sharing His riches because they are made “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). The ultimate goal of their salvation is to be made like Him (1 John 3:2), to reflect His glory in heaven, “so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:7). ^[5]The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: 2 Corinthians, 294.

Paul anticipated the lies of the prosperity gospel. In his letter to the Philippians, he described its promoters as “enemies of the cross of Christ, whose end is destruction, whose god is their appetite, and whose glory is in their shame, who set their minds on earthly things” (Philippians 3:18-19). He charged the church to avoid such worldly distractions. Instead, Christians must fix their hearts on the eternal riches only Christ can provide.

For our citizenship is in heaven, from which also we eagerly wait for a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ; who will transform the body of our humble state into conformity with the body of His glory, by the exertion of the power that He has even to subject all things to Himself. (Philippians 3:20–21)

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. One of our previous blog series, Looking for Truth in All the Wrong Places, strongly emphasizes those doctrines. The following entry from that series originally appeared on June 5, 2017. -ed.

God told me.

The Holy Spirit laid it on my heart.

The Spirit is compelling me.

Those phrases and others like them are frequently thrown around the church today without giving many people pause. In fact, it seems the Holy Spirit’s primary role is laying burdens on believers and compelling them to deliver specific, timely messages to the church.

But how do we know when it’s actually the Holy Spirit, and not just a heavy conscience, a strong personal desire, or emotion-driven enthusiasm? For that matter, what’s to say it wasn’t simply some bad pizza? For all the talk about the Holy Spirit directing us, speaking to us and through us, and compelling us this way and that, how do we know when God is truly leading us?

We recently asked John MacArthur about how we can discern the Spirit’s ongoing work in the lives of believers. Here’s what he said:

We ought to look for the Holy Spirit’s leadership, but we must be cautious about assigning to Him responsibility for our words and actions. Our feelings are not necessarily a trustworthy source of information, nor are they an accurate indication that God has a special message to deliver to us or through us.

God’s people need to be circumspect when it comes to His leadership, particularly through subjective impressions and inclinations. Moreover, we need to be wary of those who highjack the prophetic seat and presume to speak for God.

In the days ahead, we’re going to look at some landmark teaching from John MacArthur regarding the propensity of many believers to look for eternal truth in all the wrong places. You won’t want to miss this engaging, insightful series that deals with the pitfalls of subjectivity and postmodernity, and the sufficiency of Scripture.

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. One of our previous blog series, Looking for Truth in All the Wrong Places, strongly emphasizes those doctrines. The following entry from that series originally appeared on June 7, 2017. -ed.

We’ve all had strange dreams from time to time. Sometimes the details are so confused and convoluted you can scarcely believe your mind concocted them in the first place. And no matter how vivid the dream appeared, you likely wouldn’t base something as insignificant as your lunch order—much less your life—on those bizarre mental images. Sadly, the same is not true for many professing believers in the church today.

James Ryle says he awoke from a strange dream one night and heard the Lord tell him, “I am about to do a strange, new thing in My church. It will be like a man bringing a hippopotamus into his garden. Think about that.” ^[1] James Ryle, Hippo in the Garden (Lake Mary, FA: Creation House, 1993), 259.

Ryle did think about it and concluded God was telling him He was going to “[return] the power of His prophetic word by His Holy Spirit into churches that (presumptuously) no longer have any place for it.” ^[2] Hippo in the Garden, 261. Ryle adds this: “Not only is the hippo in the garden the unusual thing God will do prophetically within His church, but it also heralds His release of a prophetic voice into the world through His church, bringing in a great last-days harvest.” Ryle quotes Acts 2:17–21 and then says, “A vast prophetic movement inspired by the Holy Spirit within the church in the midst of the world resulting in an evangelistic ingathering—that is the ‘hippo in the garden.’” ^[3] Hippo in the Garden, 262.

In other words, Ryle says the spirit of prophecy will come like a lumbering beast upon the whole church, making revelatory prophecy commonplace and ushering in a new wave of revival. When this happens it will seem as unlikely and out of place—and disruptive—as a man taking a hippo for a walk in a neatly manicured garden. Ryle is convinced God gave him this prophecy.

Ryle, pastor of Boulder Valley Vineyard Fellowship in Boulder, Colorado, is no stranger to dreams and visions [Ryle passed away in 2015, Ed.]. A few years ago Ryle said the Lord revealed to him in a dream the secret of the Beatles’ success: they received a special anointing from God. According to Ryle, God told him, “they were gifted by My hand; and it was I who anointed them, for I had a purpose, and the purpose was to usher in the Charismatic renewal with musical revival around the world.”

Unfortunately, John, Paul, George, and Ringo squandered the sacred anointing on fame and riches. “The four lads … went AWOL and did not serve in My army”—Ryle says he heard God say. “They served their own purposes and gave the gift to the other side.” According to Ryle, the Lord’s plan was thwarted, so He withdrew the anointing in 1970. Ryle says God has told him He is about to release that same anointing again. This time He plans to use Christian musicians. ^[4]James Ryle, “Sons of Thunder,” (Longmont, CO: Boulder Valley Vineyard tape ministry), preached 1 July 1990. Thousands listen breathlessly as Ryle recounts his prophetic message.

Ryle regularly has dreams, sees visions, and hears messages he insists come from God. “I dreamed I was literally inside the Lord,” he writes of one such incident. “I had the ability to look through His eyes and to see what He was seeing—without being seen.” ^[5] Hippo in the Garden, 128. Ryle recounts these dreams and visions with remarkably detailed interpretations. He is thoroughly convinced they all contain prophetic truth from the Lord.

Ryle does not claim to be unique. He believes all Christians who will listen can hear the voice of God through dreams, visions, and personal prophecies. “God will speak to us as He spoke to Jesus,” he declares. ^[6] Hippo in the Garden, 36. “We are not merely to look back and sigh at how wonderful it must have been to hear God’s voice and be led by His Spirit. No! God speaks to us today.” ^[7] Hippo in the Garden, 38. Elsewhere he writes, “God is a supernatural being and surely speaks through supernatural means. I refer to the audible voice of God, divine manifestations of His presence, angelic encounters and similar phenomena.” ^[8] Hippo in the Garden, 190. According to Ryle, all those phenomena are supposed to be happening today—and will happen to anyone who is receptive enough.

Ryle believes the Bible is the infallible record of God’s past speaking, but he doesn’t seem to believe the Bible alone is a sufficient word from God for today. He suggests that believers who do not listen for fresh words from God daily are missing an important source of spiritual sustenance:

Jesus taught us to pray that our Father would give us each day our daily bread. Since He declared that man should not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God, doesn’t this imply that He wants us to hear His voice every day of our lives? I think so. ^[9] Hippo in the Garden, 39.

Ryle even offers some hermeneutical principles for dream interpretation: “Be committed to researching the symbols and sayings of the revelations given. . . . Don’t ever force an interpretation, trying to make it fit a predetermined opinion or desire,” and so on. ^[10] Hippo in the Garden, 149-150. Good advice for people studying Scripture. But are we supposed to exegete our dreams that way?

Ryle says yes. He tells his readers, “There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that God still speaks audibly to His people today. My prayer is that you will hear His voice for yourself; that will be proof enough.” ^[11] Hippo in the Garden, 199. Much of his book is filled with instructions for people who want to hear the voice of God.

James Ryle is illustrative of a growing number of pastors and church leaders who claim they receive truth directly from God. Ryle is perceived by many as something of an expert in this type of “revelation.” His teaching is peppered with “truths” drawn not from the Scriptures but from his own dreams and visions. The Beatles’ anointing, the hippo in the garden, a pig on a billboard, a rhino in a field, visions of Popeye and Olive Oyl, an angel with a vat of acid, dreams about the Colorado Buffalo football team’s success—these are the “revelations” about which Ryle writes and preaches. “The Word of God” is much broader to him than Scripture, encompassing his own dreams, visions, words of prophecy, and “personal revelations”—Scripture verses taken out of context and applied like fortune-cookie messages. ^[12] Hippo in the Garden, 77. “The Bible is not an end in itself,” he claims; “rather, it is the God-given means to an end.” ^[13] Hippo in the Garden, 74.

James Ryle represents a growing movement that is propagating extrabiblical revelations from God as the key to renewal in the church. Thousands of churches worldwide have embraced this new movement. People everywhere are listening for—and believe they can hear—the voice of God.

Whether There Be Prophecies, They Shall Fail

It is not at all hard to find examples from church history of groups and individuals who believed God was speaking directly to them apart from Scripture. But surely in two thousand years of history the quest for this kind of personal prophecy has never been as widespread and as pervasive as it is today.

Church history also reveals that since the canon of Scripture was closed, virtually every “prophet” who ever spoke a “thus saith the Lord” has been proved wrong, recanted, or gone off track doctrinally. And since the apostolic era, every movement that has depended heavily on extrabiblical prophecy has ultimately digressed from the true faith, usually falling into serious corruption or heresy.

This is precisely why the sufficiency of Scripture—sola Scriptura—is such a crucial doctrine. If the written Word of God truly is able to give us all the wisdom we need for complete salvation, and if it is able to make us adequate, thoroughly equipped for every good work (2 Timothy 3:15–17)—then is there really any necessity for additional “prophecies” in the life of the believer? Does God need to say more to us than He has already said? This is a question advocates of modern prophetic revelation would do well to ponder carefully.

What More Can He Say Than to You He Hath Said?

It seems particularly unfortunate that there would be such an affinity for subjective “revelations” in an era when the average “born-again Christian” is so ignorant of the objective revelation God has given us in the Bible. When knowledge of Scripture is at such an ebb, this is the worst possible time for believers to be seeking divine truth in dreams, visions, and subjective impressions.

The quest for additional revelation from God actually denigrates the sufficiency of “the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints” (Jude 3). It implies that God hasn’t said enough in the Scriptures. It assumes that we need more truth from God than what we find in His written Word. But as we have repeatedly seen, the Bible itself claims absolute sufficiency to equip us for every good work. If we really embrace that truth, how can we be seeking the voice of God in subjective experiences?

In short, I reject modern revelatory prophecy because the New Testament canon is closed and Scripture is sufficient. Elsewhere I have delved into some of the biblical and theological arguments against continuing revelation. In this context my concerns have to do with reckless faith and the dearth of biblical discernment. Here I am primarily concerned with the extreme subjectivity that is introduced into doctrine and daily life when Christians open the door to private messages from God.

So in the days ahead, rather than focusing on theological and biblical reasons for believing that prophecy has ceased, I want to highlight some of the dangers we face when we treat any kind of subjective impression as if it were a message from God. This is a vital issue for the church today, and a key component of true discernment.

(Adapted from Reckless Faith.)

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. One of our previous blog series, Looking for Truth in All the Wrong Places, strongly emphasizes those doctrines. The following entry from that series originally appeared on June 19, 2017. -ed.

If you rely on internal, subjective messages and promptings from the Lord, what prevents you from imagining the input you want from Him? Moreover, what reliable, objective mechanism exists to keep you from misinterpreting your own imagination as divine instruction?

As we saw last time, many good souls and even some heroes of our faith fall into that same error, mistaking imagination for revelation. Many—perhaps most—Christians believe God uses subjective promptings to guide believers in making major decisions. A thorough search of church history would undoubtedly confirm that most believers who lean heavily on immediate “revelations” or subjective impressions ostensibly from God end up embarrassed, confused, disappointed, and frustrated.

Nothing in Scripture even suggests that we should seek either the will of God or the Word of God (personal guidance or fresh prophecy) by listening to subjective impressions. So how are we supposed to determine the divine will?

Virtually every Christian grapples with the question of how to know God’s will in any individual instance. We particularly struggle when faced with the major decisions of adolescence—what occupation or profession we will pursue, whom we will marry, whether and where we will go to college, and so on. Most of us fear that wrong decisions at these points will result in a lifetime of disaster.

Unfortunately, many of the books and pamphlets on discerning God’s will are filled with mystical mumbo-jumbo about seeking a sense of peace, listening for a divine “call,” putting out a “fleece,” and other subjective signposts pointing the way to God’s will.

That kind of “discernment” is not at all what Scripture calls for. If we examine everything the Bible has to say about knowing God’s will, what we discover is that everywhere Scripture expressly mentions the subject, it sets forth objective guidelines. If we put those guidelines together, we get a fairly comprehensive picture of the will of God for every Christian. We can summarize them like this:

• It is God’s will that we be saved. “The Lord is . . . not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). “God our Savior . . . desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:3–4).
• It is God’s will that we be Spirit-filled. “Do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. . . . Be filled with the Spirit” (Ephesians 5:17–18).
• It is God’s will that we be sanctified. “For this is the will of God, your sanctification” (1 Thessalonians 4:3).
• It is God’s will that we be submissive. “Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every human institution, whether to a king as the one in authority, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evildoers and the praise of those who do right. For such is the will of God that by doing right you may silence the ignorance of foolish men” (1 Peter 2:13–15).
• It is God’s will that we suffer. “Therefore, let those also who suffer according to the will of God entrust their souls to a faithful Creator in doing what is right” (1 Peter 4:19). “For to you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake” (Philippians 1:29). “Indeed, all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).

If all those objective aspects of God’s will are realities in your life, you needn’t fret over the other decisions you must make. As long as the options you face do not involve issues directly forbidden or commanded in Scripture, you are free to do whatever you choose.

Whatever you choose? Yes, within the limits expressly set forth in God’s Word. If those five objective principles are consistently true in your life—if you are saved, Spirit-filled, sanctified, submissive, and suffering for righteousness’ sake—you are completely free to choose whatever you desire.

In fact, God providentially governs your choice by molding your desires. Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord; and He will give you the desires of your heart.” That doesn’t mean merely that He grants the desires of your heart; it suggests that He puts the desires there. So even when we choose freely, His sovereign providence guides the free choices we make! What confidence that should give us as we live our lives before God!

This is not to suggest that we should attempt to try to decipher God’s will through what we can observe of His providence. That would thrust us right back into the realm of determining truth subjectively. But we can be confident as we make choices that God will providentially work all things together in accord with His perfect will (Romans 8:28; Ephesians 1:11). We needn’t be paralyzed with fear that a wrong decision might ruin our lives forever.

There are some caveats that need to be stressed here: Obviously if your desires are sinful, selfish, or wrongly motivated, then you are not really Spirit-filled, or else you are not pursuing sanctification the way you should. Your first responsibility is to set those areas of your life in order. In other words, if you are pursuing self-will and fleshly desire, you have stepped out of God’s will with regard to one or more of the major objective principles. You need to come into line with the objective, revealed will of God before you can make whatever decision you may be contemplating.

And again, our freedom to choose extends only to issues not specifically addressed in Scripture. Obviously, no one who is truly saved, Spirit-filled, sanctified, submissive, and suffering for Christ would willfully disobey the Word of God. No Christian has the freedom, for example, to violate 2 Corinthians 6:14 by marrying an unbeliever.

Above all, we must use biblical wisdom in the choices we make. We are to apply wisdom to all our decisions. Look again at the beginning of Ephesians 5:17: “Do not be foolish.” To be Spirit-filled is to be wise—to be discerning (see Exodus 35:31; Deuteronomy 34:9; also see Ephesians 5:18 with Colossians 3:16). The biblical wisdom that is the hallmark of the Spirit-filled person is the platform on which all right decision making must be based. We are to consider our options in this light and pursue the choices that seem most wise—not merely what feels best (Proverbs 2:1–6).

This means that if we contemplate God’s will biblically, we will remain in the realm of objective truth. The Bible never encourages us to try to determine God’s will by subjective impressions, “promptings” from the Holy Spirit, the “still, small voice” of God, or miraculous signs like Gideon’s fleece (Judges 6:36–40). If we seek to be led in subjective ways like those—especially if we neglect objective truth and biblical wisdom—we will surely run into trouble. Making decisions based on subjective criteria is a subtle form of reckless faith.

One of the significant contributions of Garry Friesen’s landmark book, Decision Making and the Will of God, is a chapter that explores the pitfalls of attempting to discern the will of God through subjective impressions. “Impressions Are Impressions” is the title of the chapter. ^[1] Gary Friesen with J. Robin Maxson, Decision Making and the Will of God (Portland, OR: Multnomah Press, 1980), 127. “If the source of one’s knowledge is subjective,” Friesen writes, “then the knowledge will also be subjective—and hence, uncertain.” ^[2] Decision Making and the Will of God, 130.

At one point Friesen raises the question, “how can I tell whether these impressions are from God or from some other source?” He writes,

This is a critical question. For impressions could be produced by any number of sources: God, Satan, an angel, a demon, human emotions (such as fear or ecstasy), hormonal imbalance, insomnia, medication, or an upset stomach. Sinful impressions (temptations) may be exposed for what they are by the Spirit-sensitized conscience and the Word of God. But beyond that, one encounters a subjective quagmire of uncertainty. For in nonmoral areas, Scripture gives no guidelines for distinguishing the voice of the Spirit from the voice of the self—or any other potential “voice.” And experience offers no reliable means of identification either (which is why the question comes up in the first place). . . . Tremendous frustration has been experienced by sincere Christians who have earnestly but fruitlessly sought to decipher the code of the inward witness. ^[3] Decision Making and the Will of God, 130-131.

Even more significant than that is the fact that Scripture never commands us to tune into any inner voice. We’re commanded to study and meditate on Scripture (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:1–2). We’re instructed to cultivate wisdom and discernment (Proverbs 4:5–8). We’re told to walk wisely and make the most of our time (Ephesians 5:15–16). We’re ordered to be obedient to God’s commands (Deuteronomy 28:1–2; John 15:14). But we are never encouraged to listen for inner promptings.

On the contrary, we are warned that our hearts are so deceitful and desperately wicked that we cannot understand them (Jeremiah 17:9). Surely this should make us very reluctant to heed promptings and messages that arise from within ourselves.

This, by the way, is one of the critical deficiencies of Wayne Grudem’s position on prophecy. While defining revelation as “something God brings to mind,” Grudem never explores the critical issue of how to determine whether an impression in the mind really comes from God. Yet this would seem to be the most pressing question of all for someone who is about to declare a mental impression a prophecy from the Lord.

By contrast, Friesen writes, “Inner impressions are not a form of revelation. So the Bible does not invest inner impressions with authority to function as indicators of divine guidance. . . . Impressions are not authoritative. Impressions are impressions.” ^[4] Decision Making and the Will of God, 131. Surely this is the true path of biblical wisdom.

Haddon Robinson goes one step further: “When we lift our inner impressions to the level of divine revelation, we are flirting with divination.” ^[5] Haddon Robinson, Decision Making by the Book (Wheaton, IL: Victor Books, 1991), 18. In other words, those who treat subjective impressions as revelatory prophecy are actually practicing a form of fortune-telling. Those willing to heed inner voices and mental impressions may be listening to the lies of a deceitful heart, the fantasies of an overactive imagination, or even the voice of a demon. Once objective criteria are cast aside, there is no way to know the difference between truth and falsehood. Those who follow subjective impressions are by definition undiscerning. Mysticism and discernment simply do not mix.

(Adapted from Reckless Faith.)

In the lead-up to the Truth Matters conference in October, we will be focusing our attention on the sufficiency, authority, and clarity of Scripture. One of our previous blog series, Looking for Truth in All the Wrong Places, strongly emphasizes those doctrines. The following entry from that series originally appeared on June 26, 2017. -ed.

Go with your gut.

That might be good advice when shopping for shoes online, but it’s not a reliable means for interpreting or understanding God’s Word. Too many people in the church today trust the inclinations of the upper abdomen to be the final arbiter that determines both when God is speaking and what He is saying.

As we saw last time, that is a dangerous approach—one that will likely lead to spiritual confusion and chaos. If we turn our faith into an entirely subjective exercise, we’re left with no reliable way to determine what is actually true.

Scripture very clearly addresses that issue. The apostle Peter settled the matter by proclaiming the authority and supremacy of Scripture when he wrote,

We did not follow cleverly devised tales when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of His majesty. For when He received honor and glory from God the Father, such an utterance as this was made to Him by the Majestic Glory, “This is My beloved Son with whom I am well-pleased”—and we ourselves heard this utterance made from heaven when we were with Him on the holy mountain (2 Peter 1:16–18).

Peter was describing an event that may have been the most spectacular spiritual experience of his life. This was the transfiguration of Christ, when our Lord appeared in His full glory. Peter heard the voice of God and saw Moses and Elijah face to face. Best of all, he got a preview of Christ in His glory.

This was not a dream or vision. It was not an impression in Peter’s mind, or a figment of his imagination. It was real life (“we did not follow cleverly devised tales”). He saw it with his own eyes (“we were eyewitnesses”). He heard the voice of God with his own ears (“we ourselves heard this utterance”). He was there in person with other apostolic eyewitnesses (“we were with Him”). There was nothing subjective about this experience.

Yet Peter goes on to say that even what he heard with his own ears and saw with his own eyes was not as authoritative as the eternal Word of God contained in Scripture:

We have the prophetic word made more sure, to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts. But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, for no prophecy was ever made by an act of human will, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God (2 Peter 1:19–21).

Peter is not saying that his eyewitness testimony makes the “prophecy of Scripture” more sure. He is saying that the written Word of God by its very nature is more sure than his own experience. This is confirmed by Peter’s argument in verses 20–21, where he establishes the authority and divine origin of every “prophecy of Scripture.”

The Greek word order in verse 19 also supports this as the true meaning of the text: “We have more sure the prophetic Word.” More sure than what? More sure than experience—even the valid, genuine, eyewitness experience of the apostles. Peter is saying that the written Word is an even more reliable source of truth than his own experience. To paraphrase Peter’s message to his readers, it is this: “James, John, and I saw Christ’s glory firsthand. But if you don’t believe us, there is one authority even more certain than our testimony: the written Word of God.”

The “we” at the beginning of verse 19 is generic, not emphatic. It means “you and I”; not “we who witnessed the Transfiguration.” Peter is saying, in effect, “All of us who are believers have a word of prophecy that is more sure than any voice from heaven. It is the ‘prophecy of Scripture’ (v. 20) which is more sure, more reliable, more authoritative than anyone’s experiences.”

That surely puts subjective impressions in their proper place. Remember, Peter’s experience was not subjective. What he saw and heard was real. Others experienced it with him. But Peter knew that the written Word of God is even more authoritative than the shared experience of three apostles.

Why would anyone seek truth in subjective impressions when we have such a sure Word? Peter admonishes his readers with the reminder that they would “do well to pay attention [to Scripture] as to a lamp shining in a dark place” (v. 19). The imagery here speaks of a single source of light, like a night light, shining in an otherwise dark place. Peter’s point is that we needn’t grope about in the dark in search of truth. Rather we should focus all our vision on the light cast by that single source—the written Word of God.

Moreover, we are to maintain that focus “until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.” This phrase is admittedly difficult to understand, but we discover a clue in the fact that Revelation 22:16 refers to Christ as “the bright morning star.” He is the incarnate Word of God, the one who is light (John 8:12). The apostle John wrote, “When He appears, we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him just as He is” (1 John 3:2). And Paul wrote of that same day, “Now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I also have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

This is what Peter seems to be saying: “In the midst of the darkness of this age, keep your eyes fixed on the lamp of Scripture—until that day when Christ returns and our knowledge of truth is made perfect—that day when the Morning Star Himself arises in our hearts and we are made like Him, to know as we are known.” It is a reference to the Second Coming, the only remaining revelation for which we wait.

Meanwhile, “Thy word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105, emphasis added). Those who turn aside from the lamp and grope in the darkness after subjective impressions open themselves up to deception, disappointment, spiritual failure, and all manner of confusion. But those who keep their hearts and minds fixed firmly on the lamplight of Scripture—they are the truly discerning ones. That is Peter’s message.

During the Great Awakening Jonathan Edwards wrote,

Why cannot we be contented with the divine oracles, that holy, pure word of God, which we have in such abundance and clearness, now since the canon of Scripture is completed? Why should we desire to have any thing added to them by impulses from above? Why should we not rest in that standing rule that God has given to his church, which the apostle teaches us, is surer than a voice from heaven? And why should we desire to make the Scripture speak more to us than it does? ^[1]Jonathan Edwards, Some Thoughts Concerning the Present Revival of Religion in New England in The Works of Jonathan Edwards, 2 vols. (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1976 reprint), 1:404.

Why indeed! Elsewhere Edwards penned this warning:

They who leave the sure word of prophecy—which God has given us as a light shining in a dark place—to follow such impressions and impulses, leave the guidance of the polar star to follow a Jack with a lantern. No wonder therefore that sometimes they are led into woeful extravagances. ^[2]Jonathan Edwards, Jonathan Edwards: On Revival (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1984), 141.

Surely the best advice of all comes from Scripture itself:

For if you cry for discernment, lift your voice for understanding; if you seek her as silver, and search for her as for hidden treasures; then you will discern the fear of the Lord, and discover the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom; from His mouth come knowledge and understanding (Proverbs 2:3–6, emphasis added).

We don’t need to hear something fresh and unique from God—He has already spoken to us clearly and comprehensively through the Bible. God’s Word consistently testifies to its own sufficiency: “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; so that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17). Moreover, Scripture never encourages us to look beyond its pages for another source of truth—it always calls our attention back to itself.

God’s people should want to hear from Him. But rather than chasing fanciful impressions and private revelations, that longing ought to prompt us to become eager students of His Word. He has already said everything He needs to say—it’s our job to strive to understand it.

(Adapted from Reckless Faith.)

Babies crave milk, and only milk. Parents care about the color of the blanket, the pattern of the curtains, the decorations in and around the crib, and the way the child is dressed. The baby doesn’t care about any of that. Babies don’t scream because they’re offended by the color of their pajamas. They scream because they want milk. The only thing that matters to them is milk—from the moment they’re born, that’s their only priority.

It’s amazing that everything about a baby is so wonderfully soft and cuddly and inviting—except for their voices. A baby’s scream can be piercing and horrific. It’s almost completely alien to everything else about the baby; such an awful sound shouldn’t come out of that adorable mouth. But it’s necessarily so—those irritating screams are designed to ensure that we don’t forget to feed the baby. The child will scream his head off to make sure we know it is time to eat. Moreover, babies don’t care about the convenience of their needs or how they fit into the rest of our plans. There is no negotiation—until his needs are met, that baby is going to let us hear it.

That is the imagery the apostle Peter uses to describe how believers should hunger for God’s Word: “Like newborn babies, long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow in respect to salvation” (1 Peter 2:2).

Do we have that singular craving for the truth of Scripture? Do we get to the place, like Job, where we desire God’s Word more than our necessary food (Job 23:12)? It would be hard for most people to think of anything they desired that strongly—especially in our culture of instant gratification. Nearly anything we want is never more than a few dollars, a short drive, or a couple mouse clicks away. But the helpless hunger Peter describes isn’t satisfied so quickly.

Making Sense of the Metaphor

There is no mistaking the apostle’s intention here; the term artigennēta brephē refers to a suckling infant in the first moments after his birth. This isn’t just any nursing baby—Peter is reaching all the way back to the moments just after a child emerges from his mother’s womb, and the immediacy and intensity of his hunger. The moment that baby is born, he cries for his mother to provide the pure, uncontaminated milk he desperately needs. That milk is vital to the baby’s survival, providing both nourishment and antibodies to protect and sustain his little life.

It’s important that we don’t confuse the point of Peter’s metaphor with others in Scripture. He is not merely talking about newborn babies in Christ—this isn’t limited to new believers. All Christians, regardless of their spiritual maturity, need to cultivate a singular craving for God’s truth. Likewise, Peter is not talking about the milk of the Word versus the meat (cf. 1 Corinthians 3:2; Hebrews 5:12–14). That’s a separate metaphor used by other authors to illustrate a different point. Here, Peter is simply exhorting his readers to hunger for the whole Word of God.

We ought to be thankful for such a clear, graphic analogy. A newborn baby longs for his mother’s milk because he cannot survive without it. And in God’s design, various mechanisms go off in that precious little baby to create agitation and irritation when his primary need is not met. This is not just a mild hunger—it’s a critical, all-consuming need.

This is a hunger that should be apparent in the life of every believer. However, many Christians have instead cultivated an appetite for spiritual junk food. They prefer shallow sermons, feel-good stories, worldly entertainment, emotional experiences, and sensory overload to clear, verse-by-verse Bible teaching. Many in the church have cut themselves off from the source of true spiritual food, choosing instead to perpetually languish in an unhealthy, underdeveloped state.

Others are simply starving. My heart goes out to those true believers who can’t find a reliable church that provides real spiritual food. I hear from people in that situation all the time. They’re committed to their local church, but they’re not being faithfully fed. They have to survive with weak teaching, scrounging for morsels instead of feasting on the riches of God’s Word. And in that malnourished state, they develop deficient immune systems, succumbing to heresies and errors they would otherwise know to avoid. That’s the cost of weak preaching and weak pastors—they leave the people under them exposed and vulnerable to lies that wouldn’t afflict stronger believers. Today, too many pulpits are occupied by hirelings who don’t know the first thing about how to feed their flocks—they’re either incapable of feeding God’s sheep or unwilling to do so. My prayer is that believers caught in such situations would find faithful ministries to help supplement the spiritual sustenance they require from God’s Word.

The Only True Source of Spiritual Sustenance

Ultimately, Peter wants his readers to understand their dependence on the truth and develop a proper hunger for it in light of that consuming need. There is no alternate supply of spiritual nourishment. We don’t have the luxury of options—there is no buffet table or smorgasbord. In a world full of corrupting influences and contaminating ideas, there is only one source of the pure spiritual milk we require: Scripture.

And while Peter is commanding us to have that kind of longing for the Word, the longing itself is not the product of external forces or legalistic fears. Nor should our hunger for the truth be a function of begrudging religious duty. It is to rise out of our hearts because of our profound need for it, the way the cries of hunger rise out of a baby’s need. There should be such a compelling discontent that we cry out for divine truth as the food for our souls.

That’s far from the conversations some Christians have from week to week as they try to locate their Bibles in time for church, or debate whether they should bother going at all. Such attitudes deprive believers of their spiritual sustenance and stifle their usefulness and joy.

Sanctification doesn’t happen by osmosis. We can’t starve ourselves spiritually and still expect to grow in the likeness of Christ. All the facets of Scripture—all its rich benefits and blessings—are not available to those who fail to open it and study.

Others do want to see the Word at work in their lives. They simply need someone to point them in the right direction, to show them how to cultivate such a longing for and ability to understand the truth, and to spur them on to pursue the riches found only in God’s Word. For believers like that, Peter offers good help. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, he lays out the critical components for developing a deep hunger and desire for the Word of God. And we’ll consider each of them in the days ahead.

(Adapted from Final Word)

If God’s people affirm the inerrancy of Scripture—that the Bible is without flaw—along with the authority of Scripture—that it speaks conclusively on all matters of Christian life and practice—why do we also need to affirm the sufficiency of Scripture? Is that theological distinction redundant? Why does the sufficiency of Scripture matter outside of theological academia? Why would Grace to You make that topic the focus of the upcoming Truth Matters conference?

We recently put those questions to Phil Johnson—our executive director and one of the keynote speakers at Truth Matters. This is what he had to say.

Registration for Truth Matters is now closed. However, we will be streaming every session of the conference. So even if you did not reserve a spot in advance, we hope you will join us remotely for this rich time of Bible teaching and worship. Watch this space for more details on the livestream in the days ahead.

Modern evangelistic strategies often stumble by emphasizing the method over the message. We hear a lot about contextualization, felt needs, and relevance. On the other hand, we steadily seem to hear less and less about the power of God’s Word to transform the sinner’s soul. As the church becomes increasingly enamored of such pragmatic strategies, it proves decreasingly convinced of the sufficiency of Scripture.

We recently asked Mike Riccardi—the local outreach pastor at Grace Community Church and one of the keynote speakers at Truth Matters—what impact, if any, the sufficiency of Scripture makes in evangelism. Here’s what he had to say:

Registration for Truth Matters is now closed. However, we will be streaming every session of the conference live on the Internet. Wherever you are, we hope you will join us for this special time of Bible teaching, worship, and fellowship.

The sufficiency of Scripture is not a doctrine that is widely despised or disputed. Most evangelicals happily affirm it. But biblical sufficiency is always under attack—both from the world’s overt assaults and through stealthier means from within the church.

Many professing believers in the church today won’t read anything other than the Bible, and refuse to listen to someone else interpret and preach the Word. Some even argue that the doctrine of biblical sufficiency vindicates their hermit-like Christian existence. But does the sufficiency of Scripture nullify the value of Christian scholarship or the need for Christian fellowship?

The sufficiency of Scripture is a doctrinal hill to die on, even if it doesn’t seem like a contested battleground today. But God’s people need to understand that while biblical sufficiency itself is not often assaulted overtly, it is often implicitly in the crosshairs. So what are these subtle attacks, and how should Christians respond to them?

How should you evaluate claims of Christian conversion that don’t involve exposure to the Word of God? This question has taken on greater significance in recent years, as a growing number of Muslims claim to have been saved through dreams in which Jesus appeared to them.

Today the shelves of Christian bookstores sag under the weight of devotionals, guidebooks, and manuals purporting to help you hear and understand what God has to say to you personally. Wildly popular books like Experiencing God and Jesus Calling encourage believers to look beyond the confines of Scripture for fresh words from God.

Biblical sufficiency has been the heartbeat of John MacArthur’s teaching—he has continually used Scripture to interpret, defend, and illustrate itself throughout his five decades of ministry. With the conference fast approaching, we recently asked John why he remains so relentless in his defense of the absolute sufficiency of Scripture.

Why should the modern church subscribe to the outdated roles for men and women prescribed in Scripture? Shouldn’t the culture of the church closely mirror the culture of the world? Won’t excluding women from leadership turn off men and women who need to be reached with the gospel?

Without a doubt, the ground Satan most vigorously and continuously attacks these days is the trustworthiness of Scripture—by which he also strikes a blow at its authority, sufficiency, inerrancy, integrity, and perspicuity. The battle for the truth is the battle for the Bible, and in this fight God’s people cannot flinch.

The gospel of John has never been a prominent part of most Christmas celebrations. It contains no birth story, no manger scene, no shepherds or wise men, and Mary doesn’t appear until Christ’s first miracle—turning water into wine—at the wedding in Cana (John 2:1). We rely on the narratives in Matthew and Luke to piece together the actual events surrounding the Lord’s birth. Yet John’s account is crucial in order to understand the true meaning, significance, and implications of Christ’s entry into this world.

Would God redeem sinners at the cost of His own Son’s blood, then cast those same blood-bought believers aside? Having brought us to salvation at so great a price, would He then withhold any grace from us? Won’t He finish what He started? Romans 8:32 provides us with a clear and emphatic answer.

The teaching of the Roman Catholic Church stands in stark opposition to the biblical gospel. Rather than salvation by grace through faith, they preach a false gospel of works.

The Roman Catholic Church has committed the error of promoting a mere citizen of heaven to an improper place of authority and honor. Despite the overwhelming testimony of Scripture, the Catholic Church has elevated Mary—a self-described servant of the Lord (Luke 1:38)—to the same level as God, if not higher.

We should be grateful for the Reformers’ accomplishments—they recovered precious biblical doctrines, and many of them died defending those essential gospel truths. But our response should go beyond mere remembrance. We recently asked John MacArthur how those lessons from the past should influence the true church today. Here’s what he had to say:

The marketplace of evangelical ideas is now overrun with diverse and competing agendas. Even the most seasoned believers can struggle to navigate it. Making matters worse, there are now many evangelical voices spreading dangerous error mixed with a dose of biblical truth. Many believers have been lulled into a false sense of security under once-orthodox preachers and teachers who have veered away from true, biblical north.

But any time you deal with the doctrine of God’s sovereignty, it sparks an inevitable question. It’s a very important question, dealing with a specific aspect of God’s sovereignty and how it relates to His grace in election. In fact, it’s probably the most pervasive question in the minds of those who are in the process of embracing the doctrines of grace.

Anxiety, fear, worry, and stress are familiar words in our day, and familiar experiences to many. More and more we’re hearing of an extreme form of anxiety referred to as a “panic attack.”