Visibility and Representation

The PCA is at a crossroads when it comes to worship. Who can lead in worship, what they can lead, and what leading actually means are all being hotly debated, especially with a revised and constitutionally binding Directory for Public Worship in the works. On the one side there are those who insist that for the church’s worship to be a true reflection of the priesthood of all believers (1 Pet. 2:5), virtually all believers can and should have a visible, up-front role in corporate worship. This can range anywhere from having non-ordained men leading portions of the worship service, women who read the call to worship and pray on behalf of the congregation, children who read the sermon text, and married couples together distributing the elements of the Lord Supper, saying, “The body of Christ, given for you. The blood of Christ, poured out for you.” And on the other side there are those, like me, who feel like this is all unnecessary.

Pardon my grouchiness for a moment, but the above sounds like participation trophy Presbyterianism to me. Now don’t get me wrong— I wholeheartedly believe in the priesthood of all believers, but that doesn’t make everyone a priest or minister. I rejoice in the fact that we are one body in Christ with diverse and gifted members, all of them needful; but I fundamentally reject that eyes need to do things reserved for ears and feet need to do things reserved for hands in order to demonstrate this unity. “Visibility” in worship is nowhere stressed in the pages of the Old or New Testaments. Worship has always been representative, never democratic (see Korah). By no means am I advocating that we turn the clock back and give Medieval clericalism another go. There’s a reason I’m Presbyterian—I wholeheartedly believe that the Bible commands and commends a plurality of elders ruling together in every church. I loathe the “pastor as CEO” mindset. But, as I scan the American evangelical landscape, I am far less concerned with visibility for [insert sidelined demographic] than I am with the widespread erosion of ministerial authority (many of us have lost our nerve) and congregational submission to church authority (see Twitter). Identity politics have come home to roost in many a Presbyterian and Reformed church and I for one think it is high time to return to the old, simple paths delineated for us in Scripture and that we offer no apologies for doing so. God’s Word is good, right, and enough.

Church Leaders Should Lead in Worship

Which leads me to my novel contribution to the “visibility” and “elevating voices” discourse: we need to make ruling elders visible again. Of all the groups of people in a church that need to be visible, it is the ruling elders. The sheep should be afforded every opportunity to know who their shepherds are. To be sure, worship is not the only place where elders should be seen by the congregation. If all a ruling elder does is lead in the order of service and teach a Sunday school class here or there, he is falling woefully shy of his responsibility to shepherd the flock of God. We don’t have an office of reader in the PCA. Elders need to be at the bedside, graveside, and side-by-side with members of the flock throughout the week.

Nevertheless, it has always struck me as ironic how in churches that button-mash visibility and representation that their elected representatives (viz. elders and deacons) exercise little to no visible leadership in the church’s most vital activity—corporate worship.

There are any number of reasons for this disappearance of ruling elders. For some churches, it may be that they are sincerely trying to counteract the 80/20 rule, that only twenty percent of the church does eighty percent of the work while the other eighty percent does only twenty percent of the work. They want to communicate that every member has a vital contribution to make for the sake of the body; they want to equip the saints for the work of ministry, not just officers. For others, it may be that the church has become increasingly staff led and not elder led. This is subtle shift, but a significant one. If you have gifted men and women on church staff, it feels only natural that they would exercise some form of leadership in corporate worship since they already are leading in other areas of church life. I can see how people get here. Still for others, the ruling elders themselves may feel that they are better one-on-one than they are up front. Many elders prefer to be invisible, to work behind the scenes, and they are more than happy to let those who have public gifts to exercise those gifts in service to the church. They’re humble men, but they feel ill-equipped for the work. There are certainly other reasons, but these three are top of mind for me.

Looking at the worship service as a whole—from call to worship to benediction—here’s my proposition: aside from the Lord’s Supper, baptism, and the bestowal of the benediction at the close of worship, there is no element of corporate worship that a teaching elder performs that a ruling elder cannot.1 Such being the case, it stands to reason that those men who have been duly elected by the congregation and have vowed to devote themselves to the ministry of prayer and the word (Acts 6:4) would be the ones who lead those activities as the church gathers for worship. In short, elders, both teaching and ruling, and those preparing for the office of elder (BCO 18-5) should alone read the Scriptures and “lift holy hands” in prayer (1 Tim. 2:8). Leap-frogging over a church’s ruling elders and preferring non-ordained men and women to lead in worship is a mistake—ruling elders should be first in line. They are leaders after all.

But What About...?

Notice that my modest proposal doesn’t speak to who can assist in congregational singing. One need not be ordained in order to lend their voice to the corporate singing of God’s praise. For the same reason that I believe women can recite creeds, confessions, and sing God’s praise in unison with the entire body, so too do I think it is permissible for a woman to be mic’d for sound and so assist the congregation in song.2

Furthermore, because there is no element of worship that an ordained minister cannot rightly perform himself, there is no circumstantial necessity for a non-ordained person to perform any element of worship instead. So long as a minister or aspiring minister is present, there is no practical need for a non-ordained person to read the Scriptures or to pray on behalf of the body. Instead of asking, “Why can’t this non-ordained person do X?” we should be asking instead, “Why wouldn’t our ordained ruling or teaching elders be able to do X?” It’s time that the church expected more from her ruling elders. They are not CEO’s who make decisions behind closed doors. They are godly, gifted men who have been equipped by the Spirit for the work to which they’ve been called. They are to serve as models of what it means to worship in Spirit and in truth. Ruling elders ought to be visible. The church needs them to be visible.

Taking My Own Medicine

I pastor, by PCA standards, a small to mid-sized church. There are five ruling elders besides me and our associate minister. Every Sunday one of our ruling elders leads in worship. They call us to worship, offer a prayer of adoration, lead us in the confession of an ancient creed, and exposit the law of God using our confessional standards. Though none of them have been to seminary or taken homiletics courses, worship leadership factored heavily into their elder training. They read the same books that I did in seminary—Terry Johnson, Samuel Miller, and several articles on the subject. They each got practice leading a service before they were voted on by the congregation. As a result of their hard work and preparation, their prayers and leadership have proven to be a blessing to the body. In fact, in many cases, ours is the only church where lifelong Christians have ever seen someone other than the pastor or a paid staff person lead in worship. No, their prayers aren’t perfect. Sometimes they stumble over their words. Sometimes they announce the wrong hymn number, but you know who else has done that? I have. And so have you.

In an age where there is less and less respect for the office of elder, I wonder what effect it would have if churches started including their ruling elders in the order of service. From my experience as a minister, it’s been a net positive. My elders have blessed the congregation as a whole through their public ministry, and they’ve blessed me as well. I am not above being blessed by my ruling elders.

So here’s my challenge to you: give it a try. If you’re a ruling elder, approach your teaching elder and ask him what it would take for you to start leading in corporate worship. It may take some time for the practice to become regular and for you to be good at it, but be patient. Get a recommended reading list from your pastor and, if you do start leading, ask for critical feedback both from him and from members of the congregation. And if you’re a minister, encourage your ruling elders to come alongside you and to prayerfully consider leading in worship. You are not called to shepherd the flock of God by yourself and I do not believe corporate worship is the lone exception. Even if your church’s practice is to have only teaching elders lead in worship, look then for other opportunities for your ruling elders to minister visibly before the congregation. It is vital for them, for you, and for the whole church that they be seen laboring alongside you in the ministry of prayer and the word.

The PCA always has been and will be as strong as its ruling elders. May they shine as lights for the glory of Christ, and especially in his worship.

It’s been a minute (but hey, I told you things would be uneven, didn’t I?). Nevertheless here I am, back in Jacksonville, reflecting not just on my sister’s funeral but now, on my little brother’s wedding. He and his lovely wife tied the knot last week and I couldn’t be prouder as a big brother. In true Spin fashion the man married up, and we are excited for what the Lord has in store for them. So it’s been a month to say the least. Life’s greatest sorrow and one of life’s greatest joys all in the space of thirty-one days.

With General Assembly just a few weeks away and a third trip home to Maryland planned for the week after, I figured now is the time to close the loop on the funeral as promised and to pass along the good news I attempted to share with my family and friends. To that end, here’s how the rest of the funeral went.

The Funeral

As you could tell from the last post, I would’ve been more than content to say “Amen” after my mother’s remarks and call it a day. I had more than one person pull me aside and tell me they’d never heard as clear a gospel presentation at a funeral. I couldn’t ask for a better example of boldness and love for the lost than I’ve witnessed in my mother throughout my life, not just that day. Nevertheless, when it was my turn to speak, I turned to 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 and sought to explain how it was that my mother, who’d just lost her daughter, could have such joy and fortitude even in the midst of sorrow:

¹³ But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. ¹⁴ For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. ¹⁵ For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. ¹⁶ For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. ¹⁷ Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. ¹⁸ Therefore encourage one another with these words.

Everyone grieves at a funeral. Everyone. Whether Christian or not, death is an enemy to all. It doesn’t matter how hard you “celebrate life,” no amount of celebration effects resurrection. Reminiscing on the good times doesn't empty the grave. The vaporousness of life and the permanence of death stare everyone down at a funeral. Grief is only and entirely appropriate.

But there are two ways, and two ways only, that a person can grieve in the face of death. You can grieve with hope or you can grieve without it.

In 1 Thessalonians 4, Paul gives the Thessalonians permission to grieve the death of those who had died, but reminds them that they were to do so with unshakable hope. In verses 13-18 Paul tells the Thessalonians why they are to grieve with hope and, in an effort to appeal directly to unbelievers in attendance, I told them how one can grieve with hope.

The Why

Apparently in Thessalonica, there were some who mistakenly believed that those who died before Christ’s return would not participate in the general resurrection. They were “uninformed” on what happened to believers at death and so were inordinately grieved at the departing of their loved ones. To temper their grief, Paul explains that not only would “those who are asleep” (implying that they too will rise) miss out on the resurrection—they would be at the head of the line (vv.15-16). They would not be left behind, but go on before those who are alive at the coming of Christ.

The reason believers can grieve with hope is because the resurrection of the righteous unto everlasting life is as certain as the resurrection of Christ from the grave. Our graves will be emptied because Christ’s grave is empty; his resurrection is the first-fruit of the greater resurrection harvest that will be gathered in at the Last Day. As Dr. Neil Stewart of FPC Columbia has said so well, Christ is the needle and we, his people, are the thread. Where the needle goes, the thread follows. Because of our union with Christ, we are assured that where our Savior goes, we will follow. We will be with him where he is, body and soul, one day and that forever. This is the certain hope that sustains the Christian at a funeral, the resurrection of those made just by Christ unto everlasting life.

But not everyone can grieve this way. In fact, only Christians have the right and privilege to be ambivalent at a funeral. Only we have cause for sorrow and true joy; a joy that is not brought about merely by reflecting on good times past but on a more glorious day to come. We have hope that does not expire with this life, but lives on into the next. The question then is—how does one come to grieve in this way? What must happen in a person in order for them to grieve with this certain hope? The answer is they must be reconciled to God in Jesus Christ. They must have faith in Christ and they must repent of their sins.

The How

Because I cannot say it better myself, I went straight to questions 86 and 87 of the Shorter Catechism.

Q86: What is faith in Jesus Christ?

Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving grace, whereby we receive and rest upon him alone for salvation, as he is offered to us in the gospel.

Q87: What is repentance unto life?

Repentance unto life is a saving grace, whereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his sin, and apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, doth, with grief and hatred of his sin, turn from it unto God, with full purpose of, and endeavour after, new obedience.

Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving grace. It is something we receive, not a work we perform. It by faith alone that we are made right with God, that we are justified in his sight. As the Apostle Paul says in Ephesians 2:8-10, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” The antidote for the fiery serpents’ bite was simply looking to the bronze serpent. The antidote for the sting of sin and death is simply looking to Jesus Christ, raised from the dead.

And once that domino falls, repentance falls thereafter. Repentance is faith’s inevitable consequence. Genuine repentance has three basic parts. Acknowledgement of sin "(“out of a true sense of his sin”), apprehension of God’s mercy in Christ (“apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ”), and turning from sin unto thankful obedience (“with grief and hatred of his sin, turn from it unto God, with full purpose of, and endeavour after, new obedience). We call our sin what it is, we look to Christ for who he is and what he has done—the Son of God who came to lay down his life for sinners, and then, with gratitude as our primary motivation, press on toward greater likeness to the Savior whom we love. You do that, you have hope—even at a funeral.

To close the sermon I channeled my inner Puritan and highlighted five common objections to coming to Christ. As a minister I’ve seen countless people come up to the threshold of the kingdom, but refuse to enter in. Here are some of the reasons I’ve heard that I wanted to address directly.

• Objection 1: “I can’t come to Jesus because I haven’t had all my fun yet. I haven’t enough of the world; enough money, enough of its pleasures, and joys. I can’t bear to part with that which makes me happy right now.”

  Answer: Jesus said, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” All earthy treasures disappoint, but only God can satisfy. Trade your fools gold that perishes for the greater worth of Jesus Christ, the everliving one.

• Objection 2: “I can’t become a Christian right now. But I will get around to it eventually. I’m young. I’ve got time.”

  Answer: But how much, you don’t know. None of us knew on April 14th that Amanda would be called home to be with the Lord. Could you imagine if she’d put off doing her soul business with Jesus? Jesus once told a parable of a rich fool who after reaping a plentiful crop and storing all his grains and goods in brand new barns, “‘Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink be merry.’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” Don’t play Russian roulette with your soul a second longer. Believe on Jesus Christ now.

• Objection 3: “But what will my friends and family think?”

  Jesus’ own mother and brothers rejected him at one point, but that didn’t make him wrong! Jesus said that following him will sometimes cost us relationships, even in our own families, but he, by his grace, adopts us into his family so that God is our Father and we, the people of God, are brothers and sisters.

• Objection 4: “But I haven’t done all the things that a good Christian should do like go to church, and pray, and all that. I haven’t done enough.”

  Jesus said, “I did not come to call the righteous [those who think they’re righteous], but sinners.” If you think you’re a sinner—good. You’re precisely the type of person Jesus came to call.

• Objection 5: “I can’t become a Christian. I’ve rejected Christianity for too long. I’ve wandered too far. God couldn’t possibly forgive me or use me.”

  Answer: Remember who wrote 1 Thessalonians (and roughly half of the New Testament, by the way)—Apostle Paul, the chief of sinners. The persecutor turned promoter of the gospel of Christ. Jesus met him on the Damascus road and inspired him to write almost half of the New Testament. If God had mercy on him, will he not accept you if you look to Christ in saving faith? Jesus said, “I did not come to call the righteous [those who think they’re righteous], but sinners.” If you think you’re a sinner—good. You’re precisely the type of person Jesus came to call.

  But if you’re still not convinced—remember the parable of the prodigal son. The story of the son who told his father, essentially, “You’re as good as dead to me.” And what did he do with that inheritance? He blew it on sex, drugs, and rock and roll and eventually realized the error of his ways. Amidst the pig slop he said, “I need to go back home. And here’s what I’ll do; I’ll work for my dad. I’ll work my way back into his favor. Better to be one of his servants than to wallow in the slop with the pigs.” but before his son could even make it to the front step, the father runs to his son, throws his arms around him, kisses him, and rejoiced saying “My son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

Though I could’ve gone on, the point was this—there is no good reason not to believe in Jesus Christ today. I pray that some did; that some passed from death to life through the preaching of God’s Word. Please join me in prayer that the Lord would use the preached Word, even now.

And if there were any who still doubted that they could come to Christ, I closed the sermon with the precious words of one of my favorite hymns, “Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy”

Come ye sinners, poor and wretched, weak and wounded, sick and sore, Jesus ready stands to save you, full of pity joined with power. He is able, he is able, he is able, he is willing, doubt no more. He is willing doubt no more.

Come ye weary, heavy laden, bruised and broken by the fall, if you tarry til you’re better you will never come at all. Not the righteous, not the righteous, not the righteous, sinners Jesus came to call. Sinners Jesus came to call.

Let not conscience make you linger, nor of fitness fondly dream, all the fitness he requires is to know your need of him. This he gives you, this he gives you, this gives you, ’tis the Spirit’s rising beam. ’Tis the Spirit’s rising beam.

With that, I prayed, and then, because there were no musicians, I pitched “God Moves in a Mysterious Way” for us all to sing acapella. I am no singer, but that song absolutely needed to be sung. I expect it was the first time that most had heard the hymn, but I hope the words stick with them forever.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust Him for His grace; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour: The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.

The Graveside

The next day, family gathered at the cemetery to commit my sister’s body to the ground. There were more tears there than the day before; but there was no less hope. We opened with prayer, I read and gave remarks from 1 Corinthians 15:12-28 on the resurrection, and left them with the comforting words of Shorter Catechism questions 37 and 38:

Q37: What benefits do believers receive from Christ at death?

The souls of believers are at their death made perfect in holiness, and do immediately pass into glory; and their bodies, being still united to Christ, do rest in their graves till the resurrection.

Q38: What benefits do believers receive from Christ at the resurrection?

At the resurrection, believers being raised up in glory, shall be openly acknowledged and acquitted in the day of judgement, and made perfectly blessed in the full enjoying of God to all eternity.

Presiding over my sister’s funeral was the hardest, but most fruitful thing I have ever done. Though my sister is with the Lord, my family still misses her. There will be more tears. And yet, my family’s sorrow is tempered with unspeakable joy. We will see Amanda again because we will see Christ in all his glory. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Hasten the day. Amen.

Me and my older brother, John, cheesing next to our taller, darker, and more handsome younger brother, Andrew.

The Call

It’s been two weeks since my sister died. It was 9:24 pm. The next day I would fly out to speak at a friend’s church in California; so I was ready to turn in early for the night. My phone started buzzing. It was my mother. She never called that late. It was about Amanda. Amanda had crashed her car and my parents were already on their way to be with her husband and two children. We knew nothing more.

Then, just before midnight, I got the second call. She was gone. Amanda would have been 38 in three days. She was beautiful and she was fierce (a recurring word in all the family’s remembrances). She was fierce in the classroom; I’d be surprised if she ever got a B. Fierce on the sports field; she was an accomplished athlete, a captain of the University of Maryland lacrosse team that won a national championship in 2010. And she was fierce in her love for family; you’d be a fool to mess with either of her kids. But most importantly, in her college years, Amanda came to know Christ as her Savior, not just mom and dad’s. Sister by blood and sister by faith. I can’t wait for the day when I see her again.

Even though I knew it was likely that I’d be called on to preach for her funeral (slim pickings being the only preacher in the family), I still felt a lump in my throat when I read my brother-in-law’s text: “Amanda was so proud of you and would’ve wanted you to preach at her funeral above all else.” For a little brother who’d long been proud of his big sister, to hear that she was proud of me… no words. It was an easy and instant “yes.” But then came the question, “What to preach?”

The Sunday before her death, as God would have it, I preached Romans 8:28 to my congregation, “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” Talk about applied theology. It was certainly a contender, but it didn’t feel right.

I thought too about 1 Corinthians 15:50-58, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” But eventually, I settled on Paul’s words in 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18.

¹³ But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. ¹⁴ For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. ¹⁵ For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. ¹⁶ For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. ¹⁷ Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. ¹⁸ Therefore encourage one another with these words.

I’ll get into the content of the sermon in another post, but before that, some background. I’m the fourth of five children. All of us were three sport athletes for most of our childhood; I am the only sibling who didn’t go on to play college sports (I got married and settled into my Uncle Rico ways at 20). My dad was the Chief of Athletics for Anne Arundel County. My sister and brother-in-law coached their children’s sports teams. All that to say, more than 500 people were in attendance at the funeral and many of them not believers. High performers, high wage-earners, but not rich in Christ. Never before had I preached to such a group.

As I was racking my brain on what to say, my mother told me, “Honey, we can be bold as brass.” A stellar one-liner. Those words gave me tremendous confidence. But not only did my mother give me confidence, she gave me a model.

The Service

The morning opened with visitation at the church. A steady stream of friends and family poured in, many of whom I hadn’t seen for years, some even decades. As music played in the background and photos of Amanda cycled up on the screen, I wasn’t sure I’d maintain my composure throughout the service. But, no doubt due to the prayers of God’s people supporting me, I walked to the podium and opened the service with the words of Heidelberg Catechism Question 1:

Q: What is your only comfort in life and in death?

A: That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven; in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

We sang several songs (“Amazing Grace” [inadvertently a cappella due to an AV mishap], “In Christ Alone,” and another that I can’t remember) interspersed with Scripture readings by family members, and then came family remembrances. My sister, older brother, mother, and brother-in-law all spoke of Amanda’s fierce love and tenacity. My mother especially, not known for being “fierce” like my sister, was bold as brass herself. Besides the presiding minister, I’ve never heard a clearer gospel presentation at a funeral.

After finishing her written remarks, my mom went off-script and said:

I am anything but fierce. And if you know me, you know that. But I’d like to be a little fierce today. Because here’s the things—there’s a transaction that needs to happen. I’d like to say we’re all going to see Amanda again. But in a crowd this size, I don’t know if we’ll all see Amanda again.

Everyone knows John 3:16, but nobody talks about the next two verses. Jesus didn’t come into the world to condemn the world, he came to save it. But verse 18 says, if anyone doesn’t believe in Christ, he’s already condemned, because he hasn’t believed in God’s one and only Son…If you don’t believe in that, he doesn’t condemn you, because the truth of the matter is we all stand condemned from the start. He came to condemn no one, he came to rescue. And Amanda figured that out, and that’s why she wanted to share his love!

…You might get mixed signals. Don’t look at any of us. Put your eyes on Christ, because we will fail you. Can I tell you something that I’m confident of? Amanda was a saint. Not because of what she did. Our idea of a saint is someone who lives a holy and sanctified life. But a saint is one who is called out by God for himself. And she was one…We’re not done celebrating Amanda’s life. Her life has just begun…

I’ve thought about how to answer the question when people ask me, “How many children do you have?” You know what I’m going to say? I’ve figured it out. I have five. One is already home, and four are on the way.

It would be a thrill to Amanda’s heart if she could welcome you when you get there. And she’ll give you that fierce hug.

Just as you’ve been praying for us. We are praying for you.

Though a firm believer in 1 Timothy 2, more than one person approached me after the service saying, “I see where you get it from,” with which I fully agreed. I don’t think there is a prouder brother or son in all the world than me.

In the next post, I’ll share some of my remarks, but suffice it to say my mother’s words were and will, I fully expect, be used mightily by the Lord. She too was fierce for Christ; and it was a beautiful thing to behold.

Below is a link to the service:

https://subsplash.com/u/lifechurchcalvert/media/d/dy8wnym-amanda-rae-regan-a-celebration-of-life

The Need to Care

I’ve heard it countless times and I’m sure you have, too—maybe from your own mouth. “They won’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” The quote is usually attributed to Teddy Roosevelt, but the evidence is scant. Murky origins aside, that hasn’t stopped it from becoming a favorite Christian mantra over the past few decades.

The thrust is essentially: don’t be a jerk. Don’t debate for the sake of winning an argument or scoring points (especially online). Flaunting your theological chops will not convince anyone that Christianity is true or beautiful. In fact, it will do the exact opposite. It will solidify the skeptic in his belief that Christians think themselves “holier than thou,” smarter than thou, and that they actually care little for the world around them. Instead of beating people over the head with blunt-force truth, the Christian should take great pains to communicate that he cares for the soul of the one with whom he speaks. The point is to remind the overly zealous bookworm or the cage-stage calvinist that evangelism requires us to use more than just our heads, it demands our hearts as well.

If this is all that’s meant by the mantra, then I’m all for it. I think we Presbyterians, while beefy in our book smarts, are rather knobby-kneed in our street smarts. We would do well to stop and consider how people think, why they think that way, and not resort to nice and neat Sunday school answers like, “Because they’re sinners” or, if you’re really looking to impress, “Because they’re total depraved” or “The noetic effects of sin.” Those will get you full credit on an ordination exam, but they’re not likely to convince an unbeliever that they’re in the wrong or that Christianity is right. Why would they listen to your theological jargon if you’ve never taken the time to listen to them as an individual, and not some nameless face among a mass of hell-bound sinners?

Pathos is not an unpardonable sin. When Jesus went ashore from the Sea of Galilee and saw a throng of needy, sinful people “he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34a). And it was with this disposition of heart that “he began to teach them many things” (34b). May we never teach the truth without this same compassion.

Have We Cared Too Much?

The question I want to pose is this—does this quip still hold up in 2026?

While I still maintain everything I said above without reservation, I think we need to acknowledge that the evangelical church America has swung the pendulum so hard in the direction of “care” that we’ve neglected the importance of knowing the faith we profess. And the world can tell.

Many churches that lean “missional” place a high priority on building relationships. Whether it be one-on-ones, small group Bible studies, or hospitality in the home, the thinking is that we need to form relationships first before we can move on to meatier matters of theology. The problem with making such friendships a prerequisite for truth is that it robs friendship of its very foundation. As C.S. Lewis wrote in The Four Loves:

That is why those pathetic people who simply ‘want friends’ can never make any. The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends. Where the truthful answer to the question "Do you see the same truth?" would be "I see nothing and I don't care about the truth; I only want a Friend," no Friendship can arise - though Affection of course may. There would be nothing for the Friendship to be about; and Friendship must be about something, even if it were only an enthusiasm for dominoes or white mice. Those who have nothing can share nothing; those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travellers.

Speaking for myself, I don’t have a lot of interest in investing in relationships that aren’t built upon a foundation of truth. Relationally, I feel pretty stretched as it is.

Maybe my mental calculus is a bit ruthless on this point, but I don’t think I can truly be friends with someone unless I have some inkling that they are in pursuit of truth, even if I believe that their pursuit is misguided. Local sports talk, funny memes, or chatting about the kid’s extracurriculars is the stuff of acquaintanceship, but not friendship. For you and me to be friends, I have to know that you believe in something, and in this I am not alone. I am coming across more and more young people who feel this same way.

The Need to Know

Roman Catholicism (RC) and Eastern Orthodoxy (EO) are having a moment of late, especially among Millenials and Gen Z. The reasons for this are many and have been written on extensively, so I won’t regurgitate those points here. But one reason I don’t hear as often for their rising popularly is that neither leads with care as many evangelicals do. They lead with truth. The teaching of the church comes first and relationships develop organically thereafter.

Talk to anyone who is kicking the tires on RC or EO, especially those who grew up in evangelical churches, and they’ll tell you, “I’m in search of something more.” No longer content with the powdered milk that they were being fed in the church of their upbringing, young men and women are willing to risk long-held relationships in the pursuit of truth. Most of the time it isn’t spiteful. They’ll be the first to tell you, “The people who discipled me really are the nicest people. They cared for me well. They just weren’t prepared with answers for the questions I had. I feel like I outgrew them.” It isn’t from a lack of care or relationships, but a lack of theological clarity and conviction that has caused many to look for a theological home elsewhere.

Such being the case, I think we evangelicals need to seriously revisit Peter’s exhortation in 1 Peter 3:15

While we shouldn’t jettison the importance of caring for those around us, we need to settle in to a new reality—people care less and less about how much we care. If it’s a caring competition (as the world counts caring), then the mainline denominations have us beat by a mile! People will not care about how much we care unless they are convinced we also know the truth. This means that we need to know our stuff. Knowledge isn’t everything, but care without knowledge is blind sympathy. It does no true good.

Are you able to give a reasonable explanation of the Bible’s teaching on human sexuality? Or personhood? Or theodicy? Have you studied the history of the ancient church and how we got our Bibles? Are you acquainted with the history and confessional documents of your theological tradition? These are the questions I field regularly as a Presbyterian minster. If you want to have a wide reach evangelistically, start by digging down deep into these topics. You may be the nicest man or woman in the world, but if you don’t have answers to these questions, or at least an interest in finding them, inquirers will find someone who does and invest in a relationship with them.

Knowing Is Caring

Instead of pitting knowledge and care against one another, think instead of knowledge as the primary and foundational means by which you care for your neighbor. Our unbelieving neighbors are groping about in moral darkness (John 3:19; 2 Cor. 4:4). Their greatest need is to have a relationship not with us, but with him who is the light of the world (John 8:12). They need to know the truth. What could be more loving than for us then, as the lesser the lights of the world (Matt. 5:14) than to put the truth of God’s Word front and center in our evangelism?

Several years ago, two young men approached the front doors of my church as I was locking up for the day. They were dressed in khaki pants and white collared shirts. I thought they were Mormons. After I asked them how I could help them, one stepped forward, introduced himself, and said, “We’re students at the Christian school down the street. My friend went through RCIA (Roman Catholic Initiation for Adults) last year but is leaving Rome. He’s looking for a new church. We’ve visited several churches, and we’re trying to find a place for him.” With that, I did what any Presbyterian would do. I opened the door, walked both of them into my study, and they left with copies of the Westminster Standards, What Is Presbyterianism by Sean Michael Lucas, and J. Gresham Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism. And I’m happy to report that that young man’s zeal for the Lord has only grown with time and that he is preparing for the gospel ministry.

Don’t be shy with the truth. Be up front with it. In a world rife with niceness, candor has a unique appeal. Know your stuff, give the reason for your hope with gentleness and respect, and trust the Spirit to apply that truth to the heart.

Philosophical Pragmatism

I’ve never liked philosophy. For better or worse I inherited something of a no-nonsense approach to life from my paternal grandfather. “If it doesn’t help me to get the job done or to be a better husband, father, or pastor then I cannot justify giving time to it,” I’ve reasoned.

My grandfather once told me, “You can never get back time.” And right he was. As the Apostle Paul said to the Ephesians—redeem the time for the days are evil (Eph. 5:16). We should aim to make every moment count. It’s easy to go overboard in this respect and to mistake all rest for dawdling or sloth, which I’ve done more than once. Such excesses notwithstanding, we would all do well to remember that our time on earth is brief and that we have been given a mission from God that demands more of our attention, not less.

That being said, in my very limited reading of philosophy I’ve always found it to be a tedious, speculative, and largely fruitless exercise. Few things frustrate me more than hearing people pontificate on matters of little to no importance or on things that they cannot personally change. Why waste time studying the mere opinions of fallen men when the Word of God reveals “true truth,” as Schaeffer said? Plato’s theory of forms isn’t true, so why bother with it? And even where secular philosophy is correct in what it says, it’s only partially correct; true as far as it goes, but cut off from the headwaters of him who is Truth itself. Eventually, the best of philosophy stagnates. Only God’s Word is inerrant, infallible, and unfathomable. And because it is so unfathomable and because my life is so short, a mere vapor on the wind, how can I reasonably justify reading philosophy when there is still so much of true religion that I still don’t know?

I still feel this way in some respects. It’s probably why I struggle to read fiction; I’m still trying to get a firm grasp on non-fiction. Some may think this pragmatic, bordering on simplistic, but that’s fine. I prefer to think of it as a right estimation of my limited time, abilities, and narrow calling as a gospel minister. I’ve found it freeing to learn and live within my personal limits, and I’d encourage others not to be ashamed if they choose to do the same. So while philosophy may certainly be lawful and useful for others, my general rule riffs on Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 6:12— if I don’t find it immediately helpful to me or those whom I serve, it doesn’t get added to the reading list.

My misgivings about philosophy aside however, there is one philosopher that I’ve grown especially fond of lately and found to be helpful to me as a Christian—Seneca.

That John Calvin wrote a commentary on Seneca’s De Clementia and the Puritans like John Owen and Jeremiah Burroughs often quoted the Stoic philosopher gave pragmatic me the rationalization I needed to pop on Seneca: Letters from a Stoic. Surely if these men found some benefit in reading him, I would to. And I’m happy to report that I have, and far more than I expected.

Who Was He?

Without getting into all the details of his life, there are several points worth noting concerning Seneca’s associations and his beliefs as a Stoic philosopher.

Lucius Annaeus Seneca was born in Cordoba Spain around the same time as Christf. But not only did he live within the lifetime of our Lord, he was also made tutor to a twelve-year-old boy, Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, who would later become Emperor Nero, the same Nero who viciously persecuted the followers of Christ. This cruelty, however, was not due to Seneca’s influence. Other voices competed for and eventually won the ear of the young emperor and, like Rehoboam advisors, convinced him that discipline by scorpions was the most effective way to rule the empire (1 Kings 12:11). Nero grew increasingly suspicious of Seneca and Seneca, sensing this, asked to retire from public life where he finished out his days philosophizing. Some have criticized Seneca for his unwillingness to be martyred; they take his request to withdraw as a sign of cowardice. In fact, Robin Campbell, in the introduction to Seneca’s Letters writes, “Seneca, all the same, may well be history’s most notable example of a man who failed to live up to his principles.” 1 Be that as it may, that one doesn’t follow through with their ideas doesn’t make their ideas wrong. His ideas are still with us for a reason. In them, there are kernels of truth that even Christians can benefit from.

What to Take and What to Leave

Stoicism, according to Campbell, is marked by four ideals, or rather four qualities that make up a supreme ideal: “wisdom (or moral insight), courage, self-control, and justice (or upright dealing).”2 As a Christian, none of those give me heartburn. I am for all of them, even if Seneca’s definition of wisdom falls shy of the wisdom of God found in Scripture.

“Early Stoicism,” Campbell writes, “had a forbidding aspect which went far to explain its failure to influence the masses. There was something unreal or fictional about the sapiens, the wise man or philosopher…It stifled and repressed ordinary human emotions in striving after apatheia, immunity to feeling.”3 Obviously this steeliness does not agree with the biblical idea of a healthy emotional life. The Bible doesn’t call us to be flatlined emotionally; we should sorrow for sin, rejoice with those who rejoice, ache when a member of the body suffers, and feel righteousness indignation in the face of injustice. God didn’t make us to be unfeeling blocks of stone.

Seneca, unlike these early Stoics, argued not for the elimination of emotion, but the regulation thereof. His writings contributed to the “humanization of this creed” and put forward a Stoicism “more closely aligned with the facts and frailty of human nature.”4 Seneca aimed to make Stoicism attainable to the mere mortal and practical, something that would improve the individual’s life. He insisted that “What we [philosophers] say should be of use, not just entertaining.”5 Soon as I read this sentence, I knew I’d found a kindred spirit.

Why I Like the Guy

Letters from a Stoic is a compilation of letters written by Seneca to a pupil named Lucilius, though Lucilius himself may not be real. According to Campbell, “The Epistulae Moarles are essays in disguise. It has been said that they were real letters edited for publication. It seems most likely that they were intended from the first for publication, possibly preceded by an interval of private circulation. No replies have come down to us.”6 But whether Lucilius was real or not, the wisdom that Seneca imparts is no less insightful.

It’s Seneca’s style that I find most appealing. As a man with a penchant for pithiness, Seneca’s forcefulness and low-tolerance for loquaciousness, verboseness, prolixity, windiness, and hair-splitting make him particularly refreshing to read. He gets to the point. His letters aim to inform and to improve the life of the reader, not to impress him with his eloquence or erudition.

Because Seneca aimed to be understood, he did not turn his nose up at using colloquialisms and popular turns of phrase to get his point across.7 He was a philosopher to real people, to the masses, and not just to the cultural and intellectual elites of his day.

So that you see why I’ve found him to be so thought-provoking, here are a few quotes that I plan to reflect on in upcoming posts. I’ll leave them here without comment and let you have the fun of seeing the many connections between these common grace insights and the saving wisdom that we find in holy Scripture.

Blessing ‘til then.

To be everywhere is to be nowhere. People who spend their whole life traveling abroad end up having plenty of places where they can find hospitality but no real friendships. The same must needs to be the case with people who never set about acquiring an intimate acquaintanceship with any one great writer, but skip from one to another, paying flying visits to them all…a plant which is frequently moved never grows strong (33).

It is not the man who has too little who is poor, but the one who hankers after more (34).

But nothing is as ruinous to the character as sitting away one’s time at a show—for it is then, through the medium of entertainment, that vices creep into one with more than usual ease (41).

You inevitably either hate or imitate the world (43).

“Rehearse death.” To say this is to tell a person to rehearse his freedom. A person who has learned how to die has unlearned how to be a slave…There is but one chain holding us in fetters, and that is our love of life (72).

But something that can never be learnt too thoroughly can never be said too often (75).

“A consciousness of wrongdoing is the first step to salvation” (77).

When I’ve posed this question to others, the answer I hear typically hear is John. Its be pretty hard to miss the gospel with a prologue like that.

Others have said Mark for its brevity and helpful explanations of Jewish practices that brought first century Gentiles into the know and, for that matter, 21st century Americans as well.

Having preached through both John and Matthew’s Gospels, my answer has always been Matthew. His many indirect allusions and direct quotations of the Old Testament serve to show that Jesus is the fulfillment of every Old Testament expectation and that there is one cohesive story of redemption that spans both testaments.

Much as I love Matthew’s gospel, in recent months, someone else’s answer has had me rethinking mine.

In a video that made the rounds last fall, Justin Fields, a quarterback for the New York Jets, said during a press conference that he’d been getting closer to God and was reading his Bible every day. “I was sleeping on the Bible earlier in my life” he said. “I wish I had started sooner. I encourage everyone to just read a little bit and go from there.”1

And where did he encourage people to start reading? Proverbs.

That was a first for me.

But, having mulled over his answer, I’ve come see the wisdom in it. So here are three reasons to recommend the book of Proverbs as a first stop for those exploring Christianity:

Proverbs Satisfy a Societal Hunger

Proverbs 11:30 says, “The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life, and whoever captures souls is wise.” Or, if you memorized it in the King’s English, “he that winneth souls is wise.” If we want to be wise and strategic in our evangelization of the lost (and we should), we would do well to consider what their experiences are and present the gospel in way they can understand. One such experience that woefully common is that of fatherlessness.

Whether dad was physically absent or only mentally so, there are countless individuals who long for a deeper connection with their father. They yearn for someone that will protect them, push them, encourage them, and guide them.

Case in point, in 2020 Rob Kenney started the Youtube channel called Dad, How Do I? where he offers practical wisdom to those who grew up without a father or who feel they lack competency in life skills that have traditionally been taught by fathers. The channel features tutorials on how to fix a leaky faucet, how to change a tire, how to tie a tie, how to shave, and smart ways to invest your money. To date, Kenney’s channel boasts 5.52 million subscribers. 5.52 million. Obviously he’s found a niche—a generation of men and women who hunger for someone to put their arm around them and show to them how to tackle the simple, yet daunting challenges of life.

None of what Kenney does is complex or requires high levels of expertise. It’s basic home repair, personal finance, and cooking. There are countless others on Youtube who perform these same tasks better than Kenney. But that’s not why people tune in. It’s not what he does so much as how he does it. Everything he does, he does as a father.

Because there are so many who hunger for a father like this, I can think of no better place to take them than to the Proverbs. Proverbs uses the address, “My son,” no less than 27 times. Aside from the book of Genesis, it’s the most of any book in the Bible. It is paternal through and through; and the practical instruction that Solomon passes on to his son is precisely the kind that young men need and want today. It’s a hunger that Scripture can and does satisfy. It’s a perfect introduction to the wisdom of God who is our Father in heaven.

Proverbs Are Relatable

The Proverbs speak to universal human experiences. All of us know someone whose sexual sin led to their ruin (chps. 5-7), someone who is lazy and needs a good kick in the pants (6:6-11), someone who needs to be brought down a few notches (Prov. 27:2, “Let another praise you, and not your own mouth; a stranger, and not your own lips.”), and, hopefully, we all have a good friend or two who is faithful to do just that when we are thinking of ourselves too highly (Prov. 27:6, “Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy.”). In short, Proverbs an easy way to establish common ground. They form an instant connection that can open the door to friendship and further evangelism.

In this, the book of Proverbs is not like the book of Revelation. There’s no “required reading” that needs to be done beforehand in order to understand the writer’s meaning. Living in this beautiful, complex, and fallen world is the only prerequisite. In the same way that the Psalms cover the full spectrum of human emotion (joy, sorrow, fear, envy, doubt, etc.), so too do the Proverbs offer wisdom and insight into the divers matters of life, matters common to all men, whether believing or not.

And if an unbeliever reads the Proverbs and finds wisdom that is immediately applicable to their life, why wouldn’t they read more? “If the Bible has good things to say on this topic, then perhaps it has good things to say on others, too.” No, the Proverbs are not the most direct way to present the gospel. We have the Gospels and the book of Romans for that. And if you don’t anticipate that you’ll have any follow-up with this inquirer in the future, then perhaps that’s where you should recommend they start. But, if you have time, the Proverbs do serve as a plausibility structure for the gospel. They’re so manifestly wise that not even the hardened skeptic can dismiss them entirely; even he has to admit that there’s something of value in those pearls of wisdom.

Think of the Proverbs as a way to dip the inquirer’s toes into the bottomless sea of God’s wisdom; of acclimating them to the wisdom that characterizes all of inspired Scripture. And let’s not forget this either—every proverb is like an individual ray of light radiating from the sun. If traced back to their origin, every one of them leads to the one who is greater than Solomon (Luke 11:31), to the Wisdom that was with the Father at the beginning of his work (Prov. 8:22). Every part of the Bible point us to Jesus, including the Proverbs.

Proverbs Are Memorable

I love a good one-liner. Whether it’s a Puritan, a standup comedian, or a professional athlete, I am always on the hunt for pithy wisdom where I can find it. And so are many others.

A quick perusal of social media yields countless images with inspirational quotes and no shortage of lighthearted (and some not so lighthearted) memes. And though I fully acknowledge the inherent shortcomings of memes and similar modes of communication, there is something about a dense, matter of fact one-liner that makes it stick in your mind.

Proverbs are like that. They’re short, sweet, and they stick with you. And because they’re easy for me to remember, they’re easy for others to remember too. They were made to be portable and shareable—I can carry them with me wherever I go with ease and can pass them along to others just as easily.

And unlike the pithy quotes and memes that you scroll through on a screen, when you internalize a Proverb as you’re meant to, that’s not the end of the matter. Far from it. Every proverb is a prompt; an invitation to stop and to linger and to mediate upon the deeper truth underlying it. So when I read “The king’s heart is a stream of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he will” (21:1) my mind doesn’t just stop and rest content as though I’ve downloaded some isolated data point. I am immediately drawn to contemplate and to marvel at the sovereignty of God. I think about his providence and how it extends to “all creatures and all their actions” as our Shorter Catechism says (WSC 11). I stand in awe that nothing, not even the heart of the highest king, is beyond the reach of God’s omnipotent hand. I’m comforted. I grow in confidence. I’m further assured that all things, however mysterious and however far above my head, are working tougher for my good, just as God promised (Rom. 8:28).

There is wisdom in the Proverbs and wisdom in directing people to read them as an introduction to the Christian faith. I’m not sure if I’m ready to give up Matthew just yet, but perhaps I’ll just refuse to answer the question—what one book would you recommend an unbeliever read first—and insist they read Matthew and Proverbs together. Fulfillment and wisdom side by side.

More Pithiness

As you’ll see in future posts I am a compulsive quote curator. It’s how I learn. And because I suspect that I’m not unique in that, my goal is to pass along the many gems that I find here and there in my broader reading, in the hope that someone else finds them helpful. Some weeks I’ll write on a quote or longer excerpt from something I read in Jeremiah Burroughs. Others I’ll offer my thoughts on Seneca as someone who’s never taken a college-level philosophy course. We’ll call those the “grain of salt” posts. And to keep one foot in the present, I’ll offer reflections on recent books like Abigail Shrier’s Bad Therapy and Paul Kingsnorth’s Against the Machine. Things will be varied and uneven, which is to say it’ll be a reflection of life as it really is, not what I’d like it to be. So each week will look different, but the goal will always be the same—to grow in the fear the LORD, which is the beginning of wisdom (Prov. 9:10).