An earthquake measuring 5.1 on the Richter scale shook Tehran province early on Friday, killing two and injuring 33. The earthquake occurred at 00:48 a.m. at a depth of 7 kilometers near the city of Damavand, 56km northeast of Tehran. The tremor was also felt in the surrounding provinces of Qom, Alborz, Mazandaran, and Zanjan.

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 30, 2015. -ed.

We live in an age that demands short bursts of rapid-fire information. The day is fast approaching—perhaps it’s already here—when the number of Twitter followers will hold the preeminent place on a pastor’s resume. Sermon lengths are going the way of our shrinking attention spans. Modern pastors are tempted to replace exegesis and exposition with sound bite sermons and slogan theology.

But Bible verses are not slogans or sound bites. They are eternal truths that find their meaning within the overall story God is telling. Uprooting a verse, or even a biblical phrase, from its native habitat can lead to all kinds of mayhem. That is especially the case when, independent of their proper context, verses are enlisted as the supporting cast for someone’s opinion or agenda. Romans 2:4 is one verse that is regularly misused that way—carelessly sprinkled into sermons, interviews, and social media.

For example, in January 2013, Rick Warren explained to his legions of Facebook followers how the verse factored in his evangelistic methods:

In that particular case, Warren was quoting Romans 2:4 (actually only about half of it) as justification for downplaying sin and soft-peddling the threat of judgment. But is that what Romans 2:4 is really all about? Was Paul telling his Roman readers to jettison the parts of gospel preaching that lack curb appeal?

Joel Osteen is even more explicit in his use of Romans 2:4 to defend his feel-good messages:

Listen, don’t dangle people over the fires of hell. . . . Listen, that doesn’t draw people to God. They know what kind of life they live. They know how bad they’ve lived. What you’ve got to do is talk about the goodness of God. Listen, it's the goodness of God that brings people to repentance. ^[1] Joel Osteen, "What the Resurrection Means to Us as Believers" (Sermon) cited in Philip Sinitiere, Salvation with a Smile: Joel Osteen, Lakewood Church, and American Christianity (New York: New York University Press, 2015) 223.

Joel Osteen may think that people know they are sinners and that we therefore don’t need to warn them or preach about it, but does Romans 2:4 really back up his point?

Moreover, is his point biblical at all? Just as prisons are full of convicts who will proclaim their innocence, Scripture is clear that sinners reject the guilt of their sin. As Solomon explained, “Every man’s way is right in his own eyes” (Proverbs 21:2). And even those who do acknowledge their sin have little grasp of the depth of their wretchedness, or the eternal cost of their transgressions.

In fact, it’s ironic that Osteen and Warren would use Romans 2:4 to excuse themselves from discussing sin and the need for repentance, since that verse is plucked from Scripture’s most profound discourse on man’s depravity.

Romans 1–3 is undeniable proof that Paul began his exposition of the gospel by first addressing the universality of sin and the justness of God’s wrath against sin. John MacArthur points this out:

The biblical order in any gospel presentation is always first the warning of danger and then the way of escape, first the judgment on sin and then the means of pardon, first the message of condemnation and then the offer of forgiveness, first the bad news of guilt and then the good news of grace. The whole message and purpose of the loving, redeeming grace of God offering eternal life through Jesus Christ rests upon the reality of man’s universal guilt of abandoning God and thereby being under His sentence of eternal condemnation and death. Consistent with that approach, the main body of Romans begins with 1:18, a clear affirmation of God’s wrath “against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.” ^[2] John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Romans 1-8 (Chicago: Moody Press, 1991) 74.

It is actually our guilt and the justness of God’s wrath that provide the all-important context for Romans 2:4:

And we know that the judgment of God rightly falls upon those who practice such things. But do you suppose this, O man, when you pass judgment on those who practice such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape the judgment of God? Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance? But because of your stubbornness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. (Romans 2:2-5)

Now you can see why Romans 2:4 is so frequently divorced from its context, and why it’s usually paraphrased instead of quoted. In the full context of Paul’s writing we see clearly what he means by God’s goodness—it is “the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience.” And Romans 2:2-3 explains how God demonstrates that tolerance and patience—by withholding the wrath we deserve. God’s goodness is the reality that we have not yet experienced His judgment. MacArthur adds:

Forbearance [tolerance] comes from anochē, which means “to hold back,” as of judgment. It was sometimes used to designate a truce, which involves cessation of hostilities between warring parties. God’s forbearance with mankind is a kind of temporary divine truce He has graciously proclaimed. Patience translates makrothumia, which was sometimes used of a powerful ruler who voluntarily withheld vengeance on an enemy or punishment of a criminal. Until the inevitable moment of judgment, God’s kindness and forbearance and patience are extended to all mankind. ^[3] The MacArthur New Testament Commentary: Romans 1-8, 119.

It is impossible to preach the goodness of God without talking about sin and judgment because its very meaning is bound up in those terms. When we see our sinfulness and rebellion against God, and when we see our hypocrisy in condemning others for committing the same wrath-deserving sins, then we can also marvel at God’s goodness in patiently and tolerantly withholding the wrath that we deserve.

That is what leads us to repentance. And it is entirely consistent with what Paul taught elsewhere in Scripture:

I now rejoice, not that you were made sorrowful, but that you were made sorrowful to the point of repentance; for you were made sorrowful according to the will of God, so that you might not suffer loss in anything through us. For the sorrow that is according to the will of God produces a repentance without regret, leading to salvation, but the sorrow of the world produces death. (2 Corinthians 7:9-10)

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 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 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. 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 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.)

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.

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?

Our culture has a growing fixation on diet. That’s understandable considering the undeniable connection between the quality—and source—of the food we eat and the health of our bodies. But as Christians, how much attention do we pay to our spiritual health?

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.

Among evangelical Christians, the word syncretism usually conjures thoughts of third-world missionaries who blend their religion with the indigenous pagan practices they encounter. A visitor to my home church related a conversation he’d had with a Roman Catholic missionary while touring South America. The priest wore his syncretistic practices as a badge of honor, boasting of how he intentionally incorporated native religious observances into his worship services. He was critical of Protestant missionaries who refused to likewise accommodate the paganism of the people they ministered to.

Most of us are familiar with politicians who obfuscate simple questions with complex political answers. Who can forget Bill Clinton’s “It depends upon what the meaning of the word ‘is’ is”? Unfortunately, obfuscation exists in the realm of theology as well. God may not be “a God of confusion” (1 Corinthians 14:33), but there are scores of biblical scholars, theologians, and pastors who insert plenty of it into the first few chapters of Genesis.

What you believe about the opening verses of Genesis forms the foundation for your view of Scripture. That was the point John MacArthur made recently when we asked him about the importance of the Genesis account.

It is no coincidence that the rise of feminism in the twentieth century paralleled an unprecedented push for female clergy in Western churches. With the shifting views and priorities of the culture, the timeless biblical truths of male headship and church leadership were suddenly under attack.

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?

The language of therapy has a stranglehold on our culture. Children don’t lie anymore, they tell stories. Serial adulterers have been re-branded as sex addicts. Drunkenness is now an alcohol disorder—in fact, addiction itself is treated like a disease. Even the gross perversion of pedophilia is listed as a psychiatric disorder in the ever-expanding Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5).

Ecumenism is nothing new. Satan always works to mingle the truth with error, and the evangelistic co-belligerence of evangelicals and Catholics is just one example. But for some reason, this unlikely doctrinal mashup has been growing in popularity for the past two decades.

Does an unregenerate man bear a spark of the divine that draws him to a relationship with God, or is he utterly lost in the total depravity of his sin nature? While that might seem like an obscure theological question, don’t dismiss it as merely fodder for academic debates. It’s an immensely practical question—with implications for the church and for your own life. And it’s at the heart of the consumer-driven movement in the church, commonly known as seeker sensitivity.

In October 1978, 334 evangelical leaders gathered in the city of Chicago to formulate what is now known as the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy. One of the younger attendees at that gathering was John MacArthur, who was just shy of a decade into his pastorate at Grace Community Church.

How to approach Christmas with a Christ-honoring attitude is a vexing question for many believers. Should we embrace the various traditions or be antagonistic toward them? Should we vigorously participate or cautiously hesitate?

Many people gladly celebrate the birth of Christ at Christmas, only to ignore, shun, and reject Him the rest of the year. They don’t mind celebrating the birth of a baby, but they don’t want to hear about the Lord of lords.

It may seem a nice romantic sentiment to characterize love as uncontrollable passion, but those who think carefully about it will realize that such “love” is both selfish and irrational. It is far from the biblical concept of love.

The major theological conflicts of the past should never be dismissed just because they happened a long time ago. Many theological fissures were vitally necessary—and remain crucial into the present. And the Protestant Reformation is perhaps the greatest example of that—a clear and necessary line of doctrinal demarcation that has stood for more than five hundred years. And the lines of division couldn’t be more critical. They mark fierce disagreements over who is the head of the church, whom we should worship, whom we should pray to, what the cross represents, and how sinners can be saved. No amount of time can sweep those fundamental theological differences under the rug. Or so you would think.

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.

I am convinced that the most dangerous lie is the one that is almost true. The regenerate believer can usually see through most pseudo-Christian scams, whether they be online, on TV, or in the pulpit. But Satan doesn’t always deploy his deceptions through shallow charlatans—he also carefully cloaks them in the garb of orthodox Christianity.

Christianity was never meant to be a haven for theological pacifists. Christ’s pure gospel is not only worthy of a vigorous defense, His chosen people have been enlisted for that very purpose (Jude 3). Doctrinal peacetime has been rare during 2,000 years of church history, as spiritual terrorists relentlessly attack and infiltrate the body of Christ. Precious truths have been tested and proven on the battlefield of worldviews. That is why the lives of men like Athanasius, Augustine, and Luther are largely defined by the doctrines they fought for.

If your Christian life is devoid of persecution, hardship, and fighting against false teaching, then you probably need to re-evaluate your faith.[Insert Tooltip: John 15:20; 2 Corinthians 13:5; 2 Timothy 2:3; Jude 3-4] The race we are called to in Hebrews 12:1–2 is not run on the path of least resistance. Yet that’s where many believers live today—blown around by the winds of church trends and without testing them against Scripture.

Prior to the advent of the Internet and social media, the life of a religious charlatan was easy. Ministries built on preposterous prophecies, outlandish miracle claims, and bizarre Scripture twisting could continue unabated without the fear of any serious scrutiny. And while heresy is still lucrative, the modern heretic has to be shrewd about disguising his schemes and covering his tracks. The bar has been raised—doctrinal deception requires going to a whole new level. And it has.

Deception from heretical infiltrators has been an ever-present threat throughout 2,000 years of church history. Fighting that deception is a war for the truth that all Christians have been called to wage (Jude 3). But in the heat of battle we must never neglect our primary calling as missionaries (Matthew 28:19–20).

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.

Why pray to God if He sovereignly rules and reigns over our lives—isn’t His mind already made up? And if God is orchestrating every event in the universe for His glory, does that mean our choices and decisions are nothing more than pre-arranged manipulations by our Creator? Many Christians wrestle with these questions as they try to grasp the implications of God’s sovereignty over all that He has created.

God is absolutely sovereign in the calling and conversion of His elect. As we have seen previously, the apostle Paul makes that cardinal truth inescapably clear in Romans 9. But why preach the gospel if God is sovereign over His redemptive work? Why call on sinners to repent and believe if the work belongs to God? The apostle Paul explains why in Romans 10 and 11.

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.”

It should be clear by now that unchecked anxiety isn’t good for you. It’s a sin expressly forbidden by the Lord, so there is the spiritual cost to consider. But it’s also harmful to your health, your productivity, and your relationships. It wreaks havoc throughout your life, and as we saw yesterday, it strangles your mind.

One of the most hopeless aspects of unrepentant sinners’ lives is that they have no answer for anxiety. They’re forced to put their hopes in flimsy, fallible plans and institutions. They aren’t able to rest firmly in the unchanging promises of God—they have to ride out every wave of calamity, every unexpected disaster.

If you worry, what kind of faith do you manifest? “Little faith,” according to Jesus (Matthew 6:30). If you are a child of God, you by definition have a heavenly Father. To act like you don’t, nervously asking, “What will I eat? What will I drink? What will I wear for clothing?” is to act like an unbeliever in God’s eyes (vv. 31-32).

The apostle Peter was a worrier. He worried about drowning when he was walking on water, even though Jesus was right there with him (Matthew 14:29-31). He worried about what was going to happen to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, so he pulled out his sword and tried to take on a battalion of Roman soldiers (John 18:2-3, 10). And when he worried about Jesus being crucified, Peter ordered God Himself not to go to the cross (Matthew 16:22).

The Trump administration’s reprieve for Iraq from US sanctions on Iranian electricity imports will extend through September.

Grup Yorum's Ibrahim Gokcek died two days after suspending his “death fast."

President Donald Trump laid into some of his close Senate allies for siding with Democrats on an Iran war powers bill even as Congress failed to override his veto.

Kylie Moore-Gilbert is among the many foreigners held in Iran's notorious Evin prison on espionage charges.

The operation comes at a time of recent IS attacks in Syria and Iraq.

Although Egypt has stopped liquefying and exporting liquefied natural gas due to the global collapse of prices as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, it is still expanding its gas production in the eastern Mediterranean.

UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Michelle Bachelet warned of a "ticking time bomb" in Syria amid an uptick of civilian attacks and human rights violations.

Turkey's professional soccer teams will begin playing in empty stadiums in June, the Turkish Football Federation president said Wednesday.

Ankara’s haste to reopen shopping malls may be an effort to revive sagging consumption, but it also has to do with a tight nexus between politicians and businesses in the country.