official relationship. Yet we were at a stalemate. The awkward silence swallowed our fun evening as it came to a close.

When we parted ways, I became angry and began to doubt him. “Maybe he’s not the kind of guy I want?” “This isn’t going to work out.” “He’s not leading and initiating like he should.” My harsh judgments were growing like a hard shell around my heart, and I began rejecting him internally. I thought it would end before it had even begun.

But a good friend intervened and deflated my idealism with some wise realism. “Give him a break. It’s really hard for guys to put themselves out there. Help him out a little.” I swallowed my pride, realizing I needed to encourage and support my potential boyfriend, so he could feel safe to try again. I provided another opportunity for us to spend time together, which led to him asking me out.

It’s a good thing I listened to my friend’s advice, because that potential boyfriend became my husband.

Unrealistic Expectations

Before I got married, I was hard on men because I knew the Bible laid out high expectations for biblical manhood. This mentality served me well at weeding out the “bad ones” in the dating world, but held me back from going forward with the “good ones.” My lack of graciousness was my Achilles’ heel — the one place of weakness and vulnerability amidst my strength and pride.

I was really good at knowing what others should be doing, especially men, but negligent on my end. Having a strong view of biblical manhood and womanhood can be an advantage in dating and marriage, but it can also breed unrealistic expectations.

Knowing what we should be (the ideal) can make us forget what we really are (the reality.) Men won’t always lead perfectly, just like women won’t always respect and submit to their husbands. The moments when the ideal transcends reality are an evidence of God’s grace at work on our behalf. This same grace at work in us is our example to live by. Grace must temper the standards in our relationships.

This truth in no way means that we “settle” for immaturity in dating, or that we enable sin or abuse in marriage, but it does remind us that we should examine our own hearts, not just critique the failings of others.

Jesus says in Matthew 7:3–5,
“Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

One way grace manifests itself in our lives is through examining our hearts first. It’s easy to see others’ shortcomings, while ignoring our own weaknesses. God’s word does call us to speak the truth in love, which at times will produce confrontation. But if we ask God to make us more aware of our sin than the sin of others, we’ll find a long-lasting solution for many of the problems in our relationships. We all fall short of the ideals laid out in Scripture. Knowing this truth gives us the humility we need to spur one another on to these very same ideals.

What I Learned from Grace

I learned a lesson when my husband and I were dating that I’m still learning in our marriage. I’m better at criticizing (even nitpicking over small things) than I am at being gracious. When he doesn’t do things right, according to God’s standards or mine, I can be harsh and unloving. I can still help my husband by showing him ways he can grow and change, but I often neglect the call to change myself first.

The grace I extended to my husband in our dating relationship helped him step out and lead. I changed before he changed. I took the log out of my eye, so I could see the best way to help him with the speck in his. After five years of marriage, I am still happily called to do this “till death do us part.”

I’m so grateful my friend confronted my unrealistic expectations and challenged me to extend my suitor some grace.

http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/give-your-suitor-some-grace

by Bill Walsh

"What do you have that you did not receive?" 1 Corinthians 4:7

In a recent sermon on Romans, Tullian Tchividjian relayed the story of his travel to a southeastern U.S. city where he spoke to a group of financial supporters on behalf of a ministry that serves the poor---homeless, addicted, abused, and unemployed. Earlier that day, he toured this ministry's facilities and chatted with those being helped. During the talk he said, "I learned more about God's grace talking to those people, because they were desperate, than I do most people I talk to in church."

Why? Perhaps because those in need are more in touch with their desperate dependence on grace. When things are great and our basic needs are met, we tend to forget our actual impoverished condition. It's too easy to mistakenly believe that we are self-reliant; we might even pat ourselves on the back for how smart and hard-working we've been.

This story got me thinking about how we who live in material comfort often take for granted our access to gospel resources. We're surrounded by teachers, sermons, good books, online resources, Bible software, blogs, and the list goes on. Sure, many of us work hard to gather good resources and regularly imbibe truth to feed our souls. But in the end, a gracious God has handed us things we didn't choose or earn:

• When and where we were born
• Our families
• The economic, social, and technological environment in which we live
• Awareness of the gospel
• The legacies of preachers and authors who preceded us

In contrast, we should consider those in the Global South who often suffer from theological famine. We are frequently in touch with leaders in countries where solid Christian publishing in their language practically does not exist. Many pastors and church leaders lack sufficient access to gospel-centered teaching and resources. While good books are hard to come by, those by false teachers are quite prevalent. Due to poor technology, online study resources are also rare.

Imagine how desperate you would be, especially trying to shepherd a flock of God's people. Most of us in the West will not face this kind of need, though a majority in the rest of the world endures it. Their poverty should remind us of our true condition and desperate need for the grace of God. What we enjoy so lavishly has been given to us by sheer grace. Thank God!

As Tim Keller has said, "When Christians who understand the gospel, see a poor person, they realize they are looking into a mirror."


Bill Walsh is director of international outreach for The Gospel Coalition. He worked for Desiring God Ministries for 13 years. Starting in 2006, he and a small team built a global network of partners for the cause of Theological Famine Relief for the Global Church. This initiative joined TGC in 2012. He lives with his wife, Cindi, in Minneapolis and has two adult children, Beau and Regan.

Now, in the middle of the Christmas season, or really any time of the year, it is tremendously tempting for our hosting of others to really be all about ourselves.  In the back of our minds (though perhaps screaming loudly) is a voice telling us that that our acceptance with God and others, our very righteousness, rests on our ability to entertain as well as the next person.  This article by Trillia Newbell speaks well against that lie.  Be encouraged--and motivated!


You Can Be Hospitable Even With LIttle

I love to host people in my home—the more the merrier! The idea of one day owning a bed-and-breakfast and preparing a meal for strangers who have traveled far and wide, preparing all the Southern fixin's you can imagine (eggs, bacon, grits, biscuits, gravy), makes this Tennessee girl jump for joy. Hospitality is a joy for me—not a burden. But a recent move has left me with far less space to host. It's easy to excuse our inhospitable attitudes due to inadequate space or messy homes. Yet during this move I've been reminded that hospitality is a matter of the heart, not square footage or neatness.

My family recently moved from a three-bedroom, full basement, ranch-style home across our long state and into a two-bedroom apartment. The apartment is spacious enough but definitely smaller. When we first moved into the area I hesitated to say that I lived in an apartment when people would ask me where I lived. Instead I'd say something like, "I live in the neighborhood off the major interstate." It wasn't long before the Lord convicted me of pride and fear of man. Worldliness and covetousness had crept into my heart. Thank you, Lord, for that revelation and the repentance that followed! But then visiting friends began to request to stay in our apartment.

There's a temptation to want to wait until everything is "perfect"—as in a large, clean, beautiful home—before allowing someone in. Our new home felt like it was too small to truly be welcoming. And because of the lack of space, boxes were still piled up in public places. So we lived in a box, filled with boxes, so I thought. Did I mention that we have two children? So it's a box, filled with boxes, and toys. There's no way, I thought. In the middle of holiday season, I imagine many others share my concern about whether we can adequately care for guests.

Hospitality Is About Love

Peter got to the heart of hospitality when he urged his readers to "show hospitality to one another without grumbling" (1 Peter 4:9). Hospitality was a matter of survival in the first century. So Peter reminded Christians not to complain during this common activity.

Surrounded by that Scripture on hospitality, Peter tells us to "keep loving one another earnestly," and "as each has received a gift, use it to serve one another" (1 Peter 4:8, 10). Hospitality is a practical way to love your neighbor as yourself and fan into flame the gift that God has given you.

Hospitality Is About the Heart

It is possible to have a completely clean home, every room in order, large space, and a meal that a five-star restaurant would envy, and yet not be hospitable. Perhaps you've done it. Everything is neat and tidy, but you still run around like Martha "distracted with much serving" rather than sitting and enjoying your guests like Mary as she sat at Jesus' feet (Luke 10:38-42). Love transforms hospitality. When we begin to think about serving others and sharing not only our spaces but also our hearts, we can open the doors with gladness.

Paul charged the early Christians to "contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality" (Romans 12:13). Hospitality and caring for the needs of others marks our faith. Nowhere did Paul qualify his command. He did not say, "Show hospitality but only if you have a lot of room and all of your possessions are neatly stored." We don't wait until everything seems perfect—we offer what we have and trust God to bless our guests.

By the grace of God, I did not hesitate for long before we invited guests into our new home. In fact, we've seen more feet travel through our 1,200-square-foot living space than we ever did in the same short period of time in our house.

As Christmas approaches, let's remember that hospitality isn't about the what, when, and where. It's about the who. Hospitality is about the person we get to welcome in and love. We can trust that the Lord will bless those who come into our doors if we have hearts to serve and love them. Your guests might not remember your space, but they will surely remember your care.

Opening your home may seem like a major undertaking. But it's small thanks to the Lord who gave everything to live among us and die on the cross in our place.

Trillia Newbell is a wife, mom, and writer who loves Jesus. She is the author of United: Captured by God's Vision for Diversity (Moody Publishers, March 2014).

In the wake of the recent legislative events regarding the definition of marriage here in Minnesota, alarmism has certainly been a temptation.  The following article by Mark Dever helps put everything into perspective.  It will be evident that he intended it largely for the benefit of pastors, but I think it is worthwhile for all of us...

How to Survive a Cultural Crisis

Public opinion appears to be changing about same-sex marriage, as are the nation's laws. Of course this change is just one in a larger constellation. America's views on family, love, sexuality generally, tolerance, God, and so much more seems to be pushing in directions that put Bible-believing Christians on the defensive.

It's easy to feel like we've become the new "moral outlaws," to use Al Mohler's phrase. Standing up for historic Christian principles will increasingly get you in trouble socially and maybe economically, perhaps one day also criminally. It's ironic that Christians are told not to impose their views on others, even as the threat of job loss or other penalties loom over Christians for not toeing the new party line.

In all this, Christians are tempted to become panicked or to speak as alarmists. But to the extent we do, to that same extent we show we've embraced an unbiblical and nominal Christianity.

Here, then, are seven principles for surviving the very real cultural shifts we're presently enduring.

1. Remember that churches exist to work for supernatural change.

The whole Christian faith is based on the idea that God takes people who are spiritually dead and gives them new life. Whenever we evangelize, we are evangelizing the cemetery.

There's never been a time or a culture when it was natural to repent of your sins. That culture doesn't exist, it hasn't existed, it never will exist. Christians, churches, and pastors especially must know deep in their bones that we've always been about a work that's supernatural.

From that standpoint, recent cultural changes have made our job zero percent harder.

2. Understand that persecution is normal.

In the last few months I've been preaching through John's Gospel, and a number of people have thanked me for bringing out the theme of persecution. But I'm not convinced my preaching has changed; I think people's ears have changed. Recent events in the public square have caused people to become concerned about what's ahead for Christians. But if you were to go back and listen to my old sermons—say, a series preached in the 1990s on 1 Peter— you'd discover that ordinary biblical exposition means raising the topic of persecution again and again.

Persecution is what Christians face in this fallen world. It's what Jesus promised us (e.g., John 16).

Now, it may be that in God's providence some Christians find themselves in settings where, even if they devote their lives to obeying Jesus, they won't encounter insult and persecution. But don't be fooled by the nice buildings in which so many churches meet. This Jesus we follow was executed as a state criminal.

One of my fellow pastors recently observed that, in the history of Christian persecution, it's often secondary issues—not the gospel—that elicit persecution. Persecutors don't say, "You believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ; I'm going to persecute you now." Rather, some belief or practice we maintain as Christians contradicts what people want or threatens their way of seeing the world. And so they oppose us.

Again, to the extent we respond to changes in our culture either with panic or alarmism, to that same extent we contradict the Bible's teaching about ordinary Christian discipleship. It shows we've traded on the normalcy of nominalism.

Pastors especially should set the example in teaching their congregations not to play the victim. We should salt into our regular preaching and praying the normalcy of persecution. It's the leader's work to prepare churches for how we can follow Jesus, even if it means social criticism, or loss of privilege, or financial penalties, or criminal prosecution.

3. Eschew utopianism.

Christians should be a people of love and justice, and that means we should always strive to make our little corner of the globe a bit nicer than how we found it, whether that's a kindergarten classroom or a kingdom. But even as we work for the sake of love and justice, we must remember we're not going to transform this world into the kingdom of our Christ.

God hasn't commissioned us to make this world perfect; he's commissioned us chiefly to point to the One who will one day make it perfect, even as we spend our lives loving and doing good. If you're tempted to utopianism, please observe that Scripture doesn't allow it, and that the history of utopianism has a track record of distracting and deceiving even some of Christ's most zealous followers.

It's good to feel sadness over the growing approval given to sin in our day. But one of the reasons many Christians in America feel disillusionment over current cultural changes is that we've been somewhat utopian in our hopes. Again, to the extent you think and speak as an alarmist, to that same extent you demonstrate that utopian assumptions may have been motivating you all along.

4. Make use of our democratic stewardship.

I would be sad if anyone concluded from my comments that it doesn't matter what Christians do publicly or with the state. Paul tells us to submit to the state. But in our democratic context, part of submitting to the state means sharing in its authority. And if we have a share in its authority, we just might have, to some extent, a share in its tyranny. To neglect the democratic process, so long as it's in our hands, is to neglect a stewardship.

We cannot create Utopia, but that doesn't mean we cannot be good stewards of what we have, or that we cannot use the democratic processes to bless others. For the sake of love and justice, we should make use of our democratic stewardship.

5. Trust the Lord, not human circumstances.

There's never been a set of circumstances Christians cannot trust God through. Jesus beautifully trusted the Father through the cross "for the joy set before him" (Heb. 12:2). Nothing you and I will face will amount to what our King had to suffer.

We can trust him. He will prove trustworthy through everything we might have to endure. And as we trust him, we will bear a beautiful testimony of God's goodness and power, and we will bring him glory.

6. Remember that everything we have is God's grace.

We must remember anything we receive less than hell is dancing time for Christians. Right? Everything a Christian has is all of grace. We need to keep that perspective so that we aren't tempted to become too sour toward our employers, our friends, our family members, and our government when they oppose us.

How was Paul able to sing in prison? He knew that of which he'd been forgiven. He knew the glory that awaited him. He perceived and prized these greater realities.

7. Rest in the certainty of Christ's victory.

The gates of hell will not prevail against the church of Jesus Christ. We need not fear and tremble as if Satan has finally, after all these millennia, gained the upper hand in his opposition to God through the same-sex marriage lobby.

"Oh, we might finally lose it here!" No, not a chance.

People around the world now and throughout history have suffered far more than Christians in America presently do. And we don't assume Satan had the upper hand there, do we?

Each nation and age has a unique way to express its depravity, to attack God. But none will succeed any more than the crucifixion succeeded in defeating Jesus. Yes, he died. But three days later he got up from the dead.

Christ's kingdom is in no danger of failing. Again, Christians, churches, and especially pastors must know this deeply in our bones. D-Day has happened. Now it's cleanup time. Not one person God has elected to save will fail to be saved because the secular agenda is "winning" in our time and place. There shouldn't be anxiety or desperation in us.

We may not be able to out-argue others. They may not be persuaded by our books and articles. But we can love them with the supernatural love God has shown to us in Christ. And we can make his Word known today—with humility, with confidence, and with joy.

Mark Dever is pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, D.C., and the author of numerous books, including Nine Marks of a Healthy Church.

As a life-long "people person," I have personally experienced many of the advantages of being extroverted.  As the husband of an absolutely wonderful and somewhat introverted wife, I'm learning to embrace the strengths of that personality trait as well.  As a pastor, I'm concerned that churches tend to celebrate extroversion and regret introversion.  Amie Patrick has done an excellent job of helping us start to think through this dynamic...

Four Lies About Introverts

I'm an introvert. Most people who don't know me well wouldn't guess this about me, but it's true. On a practical level, being an introvert means I'm generally more energized by time alone than by time with people, and I have a preference for a less externally stimulating environment. I feel very alive in a quiet, empty room. On the introversion/extroversion spectrum I fall closer to the middle, but still lean decidedly toward the introverted side.

The process of understanding introversion and the way it's expressed in my life has been both a tremendous relief and also an ongoing source of doubt and concern. My daily reality is people-intensive and externally stimulating. I'm married to an extrovert, we have four children, and we live in an urban setting. Our home and surroundings are fun and energetic—not exactly low-stimulus. My husband pastors a large church, and we're involved with many congregations and ministries throughout the world; consequently, our social circles are large and complex. To complicate things even further, my spiritual gifts are often expressed publicly as are the (non-innate!) social skills I've managed to learn and practice over time. These realities, combined with my definite need for quiet and solitude, have often left me and others confused about who I really am.

The lie I'm most tempted to believe is that the way God has wired me is incompatible with the life he's called me to live. The logical conclusion of this lie is that joy and contentment aren't possible—and that constant frustration is inevitable.

It took a while for me to unearth and articulate that lie under the layers of fear, doubt, and insecurity it was producing. I knew these beliefs didn't line up with God's character or promises, but it's taken extended immersion in the truth of God's Word to renew my mind and dismantle that deception. Along the way, I've discovered some subtle and not-so-subtle assumptions I'd unwittingly latched onto over time.

Lie #1. Extroversion is the biblical ideal.

There's little question our culture leans toward idealizing extroverts. Those with intrinsically good social skills, who appear to thrive in party-type atmospheres and exude confidence when meeting new people, are often considered worthy of emulation. I spent many years wondering why small talk felt so awkward for me when it seemed so effortless for my friends. In some churches, an appropriate focus on community life can inadvertently favor those who are most comfortable socially, quickest to share their thoughts and feelings, and most likely to throw a party. But there's no biblical precedent for idealizing extroversion, just as there's none for idealizing introversion either. I know extroverts who feel condemned because a quiet environment and time alone are somewhat distracting. They find it difficult to avoid comparing themselves to more introverted, contemplative types and avoid attributing their struggle to a lack of self-discipline when, in fact, a preferred environment has little to do with self-discipline at all.

The comparisons aren't helpful and neither is holding up an ideal the Bible does not. The body of Christ includes persons at all points on the introversion/extroversion continuum, and no one's contribution is more important than another's. We're all responsible to spend time both privately and corporately with God and others in worship, study, prayer, and service. Caving to a cultural standard that doesn't line up with scriptural truth is destructive to individuals and to the body of Christ.

Lie #2. Introverts don't like people.

This has perhaps been the lie that's stung most for me. I care deeply about people, but I need time alone to recharge in order to be able to give them my best. It's taken me years to view this as good stewardship rather than some sort of flaw I need to overcome. Actually, and perhaps ironically, the chief thing that's kept me from loving people well has been my attempt to be someone I'm not. The more I've tried to be that "life of the party" girl, endlessly accommodating others without considering what I need to recover, the less capacity I've had to actually love people well.

We're all responsible to obey biblical commands related to loving people sacrificially and living hospitably and generously. And it's a cop-out to use introversion as an excuse for self-protective isolation. But there's not just one or even ten "right" ways to love people well. I've learned to get better at small talk and interacting with strangers, because it's important and necessary, but it's never going to be my greatest strength. I've become much more comfortable in opening our home to small and large groups of people, both in planned and spontaneous ways, but going deep with one or two people over coffee is always going to be a place where I thrive. Accepting my God-given introversion, I still allow myself to be stretched or uncomfortable. But I passionately pursue opportunities where I can love people deeply with my gifts and life, and then humbly take responsibility for what it looks like for me to be refreshed.

Lie #3. Solitude is selfish and indulgent.

Now there's a reality here that can be true. If my choice to be alone is primarily to serve myself and intensify a me-oriented focus, it is a problem. But for a long time I believed solitude for the purpose of prayer, Bible study, or worship is necessary, but anything beyond that is probably frivolous. However, I've come to experience great benefits from a variety of solitary activities. Solitude in itself isn't inherently helpful or harmful, but the underlying purpose is pivotal. I can go for a run by myself to clear my head and enjoy God's gift of nature—or to sinfully distract myself from something I need to confront. I can sit alone in a coffee shop in order to think deeply and process life events—or to worry about things beyond my control. When I cooperate with the way God has designed me, and surrender my solitude to him, he uses it to refresh my soul in often unexpected and powerful ways.

Lie #4. Introversion is incompatible with teaching and leadership gifts.

Last year, after an acquaintance watched my husband and me team-teach in front of a few thousand people, he remarked in a good-natured way that I couldn't possibly be an introvert. I knew he meant this as a compliment, and I also understood his confusion. People who are confident and capable in front of large audiences don't exactly fit the introverted stereotype. And while it's true many introverts aren't comfortable in front of people, I am. How much of that is due to my natural personality, gifting, or years of training in music, theater, and teaching, I don't know, and it probably doesn't matter. What I do know is that once the adrenaline wears off after such an event, I need some silence and solitude in order to be replenished. I'm passionate about teaching God's Word, and I love to get to use my gifts in this area, but it's equally important for me to take necessary steps to make room for quiet rest. By God's grace I'm learning to see my more public and more private sides not as incompatible or inauthentic, but as balances to each other. 

Additionally, my leadership gifts aren't expressed in the same way as my extroverted husband. I tend to lead best from a more contemplative place. My creativity flourishes, and my best ideas rise to the surface when I have time to be alone more so than when I'm brainstorming with others in a highly dynamic environment. Since there is no one-size-fits-all model for leadership, our churches will be best served when there's room at the table for extroverted and introverted leaders alike.

Accepting the realities of my God-given personality has been a process of sanctification. I've had to repent of people-pleasing and trying to be someone I'm not. I've had to humbly acknowledge my limits and weaknesses and to live in God's strength rather than my own. Ultimately, this process has been about God and his kingdom, not me. The more I rest in his gracious acceptance of me in Jesus, the more free I become to be myself for his glory. And that's a place where joy and contentment abound.

Amie Patrick is wife to Darrin, lead pastor of The Journey in St. Louis. Married for 20 years, Darrin and Amie have 4 children, ages 3 to 12, and have served in a variety of ministry roles together. Amie holds a degree in music education and is passionate about leadership, teaching women to practically apply the gospel to all areas of their lives, and helping pastors' and church planters’ wives thrive in their calling.

We're currently taking a break from our Genesis sermon series between chapters 11 and 12 to do "On Earth As In Heaven."  In about a month, though, we'll be diving into Genesis and God's story through Abraham.  This article by Derek Rishmawy captures the gospel heartbeat of these next chapters of Genesis well...


I Am Not Abraham's Mistake

September 11 was a weird day for me. I was a sophomore in high school and distinctly remember thinking to myself, Oh God, I hope it wasn't Arabs, as soon as I heard a plane had crashed into the first tower. I'm three-fourths Palestinian and at times have a distinctly Arab cast to me. My last name is Rishmawy. Admittedly it was a selfish thought, but I just didn't see that going well for me in high school. And I was right.

That afternoon in football practice, upon discovering I was of Arab descent—a "Palestilian" according to one educated linguist on the team—a teammate of mine took it upon himself to spear me in the back. Twice. For those of you who've never played, that sort of thing hurts. Thankfully, my coach caught on quickly and put an end to it. Still, for the next few years I was lovingly called "dune-coon," "sand-nigger," "Taliban," "Osama," and the like by a good chunk of my teammates and friends. And yes, I do mean lovingly. It was wrong, and I don't really get it, but for some reason racial slurs were a way of bonding in the locker room. Still, it grated on me at times.

As frustrating and awkward as being an Arab high-schooler in post-9/11 America could be at times—given garden-variety prejudices, fears, and ignorance—none of those slurs frustrated me so much as what some of my well-meaning, evangelical brothers and sisters ignorantly implied: that my entire ethnic heritage was an unfortunate mistake—Abraham's mistake to be exact.

Anatomy of a Mistake


The first time I was struck by that thought, I was working the front counter at a gym in college. At the time, plenty of the regulars knew I was a Christian, and a number were Christians themselves, so we'd chat sometimes about faith, life, and the Bible. In one such counter chat, the subject of the end times and the Middle East conflict came up. My lovely, kindhearted brother said something to the effect of, "Yeah, if it weren't for Abraham's mistake with Ishmael, this whole business could have been avoided." I'd like to say that was the only time I'd heard something in that vein, but it wasn't. In fact, you can hear the same thing implied at churches on Sundays, in Bible studies, and on second-rate Bible and prophecy blogs.

For those of you who don't get the "Ishmael" reference, he's referring to Abraham's firstborn child by his concubine Hagar. Abraham and Sarah were getting impatient about God's promised child, the one through whom God would make Abraham a great nation, so they thought they'd help him out by having Abraham father a child through Hagar, Sarah's Egyptian handmaid (Gen. 16). This caused some family problems that led Abraham, under pressure from Sarah, to send Hagar and Ishmael away (Gen. 16, 17, 21).

What does all of this have to do with the Middle East? In his faithfulness, God promised Abraham that, although Ishmael wouldn't be the child of the promise, he would still bless him. Indeed he did bless him and make him the father of many nations—"12 princes" to be exact (Gen. 17:19-21; 21:18; 25:12-18). In the broader Jewish, Christian, and Muslim traditions Ishmael becomes the father of modern-day Arabs, with varying significance attached to the claim. For example, it's common for Muslim Arabs to claim Ishmael as their ancestor and the original heir of the covenant instead of Isaac, making them the rightful heirs to the Holy Land. Indeed, in much of the popular Christian imagination, this is at the root of the conflict in the Middle East—the conflict between the Muslims' misguided claim on the Holy Land and God's irrevocable promise of that land to Israel.

According to my well-meaning brother at the gym and those he represents, this whole conflict in the Middle East could've been avoided if Abraham had just been patient and not fathered Ishmael—and the Arabs never existed.

Sweet. Thanks guys.

Bigger Picture


Of course, this remark needs to be set against the broader picture of general post-9/11 fears about Muslim Arabs and a prevalent popular-level dispensationalism that contributes, not hate of course, but a sort of theologically laced ambivalence toward Palestinians and Arabs as a people group. This ambivalence has a range, starting with total ignorance that Palestinian Christians like myself even exist. Or American evangelicals tending to identify more with Israelis than the dwindling Christian population still living in squalor on the West Bank. Or worse, seeing them as that group of people cursing God's chosen Israel. I know of one Orange County, California, pastor who hosts well-attended "prophecy" conferences that, in the course of raising support for Israel, regularly engages in what amounts to fear-mongering about Palestinian/Muslim terrorists and end-times scenarios (that's where the pop-dispensationalism comes in). None of this should be taken as some bitter anti-Zionism or stealth criticism of conservative support for Israel. I've grown up decently conservative and know some of the complex logic at work—that's a legitimate policy debate. I'm simply pointing to some of the broader context in which this kind of remark is made—most of which doesn't contribute toward warm fuzzies for Palestinians and Arabs.

So what's wrong with this overall picture and the Ishmael comment in general? Leaving aside various technical reasons for doubting the simple identification of the Arabs with Ishmael (biblical, genealogical, geographical, and historical), and the roots of conflict in the Middle East, the main problem is this sort of comment betrays a seriously shoddy theology in at least a couple ways.

1. God's Providence

First, it reflects a deficient view of God's providential ordering of history. As remarkable as it seems, God's hand is never far from any event in human history. Jesus declares that the number of hairs on your head are numbered (Luke 12:7) and that a sparrow doesn't fall to the ground without God's consent. Old Testament wisdom reminds us that while you might be rolling the dice in Vegas, they land where God determines (Prov. 16:33). Your parents might have decided to move into the neighborhood you grew up in as a kid, but you got there because God appointed it as the time and dwelling place for you to live and reach out to find him as the source of your life (Acts 17:26-27).

I don't intend to deny human responsibility or the contingency of history but to remind us that, in biblical thought, contingency and freedom are ultimately realities upheld, sustained, and governed by God's fatherly hand. God was no more caught off-guard by Ishmael's birth than by Isaac's. Isaac is the child of the promise, but Ishmael was no accident. Most pro-life evangelicals would object to thinking of any child as an accident, an unplanned mistake. In God's ordering of history, no child should be considered an accident—how much less an entire people group?

2. God's Purposes

This sort of sentiment also betrays a weak view of God's intention to bless all peoples through Abraham. God's original call of Abraham culminates in the promise to bless him in such a way that through him all families on the earth might be blessed (Gen. 12:3). God reiterates this promise in various places, especially in his covenant with Abraham and his seed, or offspring (Gen. 15:18). Paul takes up that promise and shows its ultimate fulfillment came through Christ, the true seed of Abraham, the faithful Israel through whom the blessings of the covenant would come to the whole world (Gal. 3:15-29). God's intention in the election of Israel had always been the blessing of the nations and the salvation of the world.

The Arabs, descended from Ishmael or not, compose part of that broader crowd of "all the families of the earth" that God intended to bless through Christ. "All" really means "all" here. If, by faith, Arabs or Palestinians are united to Christ, then in the body of Christ they "are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise" (Gal. 3:29) in the truest sense, because "there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Gal. 3:28). At the wedding supper of the Lamb, when members of every "tribe, tongue, and nation" (Rev. 5:9; 7:9) gather to sing the praise of the King, those redeemed from the Arab peoples, descendants of Ishmael or not, will join in the same song, giving glory to Jesus in ways that draw on their particular ethnic and racial particularity—as Arabs and Palestinians. Viewing an entire group of people—one of the "families of the earth"—primarily as an obstacle to peace instead of as an object of God's reconciling love in Christ is a sub-Christian view of God's purposes for the nations in the drama of redemption.

The tangle of ethnicity, Middle East politics, and eschatology in American evangelicalism won't be easily solved. But what concerns me—and ought to concern you—is whether we in the church have the proper zeal to carry the gospel, in word and deed, to all nations and peoples. Do we see all people as Abraham's potential heirs? Even Ishmael's alleged descendants? In generations past and in different parts of the globe, the church has forgotten, excluded, or considered differing ethnic or cultural groups to be beyond the gospel's reach. This must not be the case with our Arab and Palestinian neighbors today.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, as a Palestinian Christian, I am not Abraham's mistake. I am God's choice in Christ.

Editors' Note: This article originally appeared at Christ and Pop Culture. 


Derek Rishmawy is the director of college and young adult ministries at Trinity United Presbyterian Church in Orange County, California, where he wrangles college kids for the gospel. He got his BA in philosophy at the University of California, Irvine, and his MA in theological studies at Azusa Pacific University. 

It isn't very often that you will hear Marcus or I teaching/preaching specifically on physical exercise.  However, this is not because the topic is unimportant.  Rather, with our commitment to a general pattern of working through biblical books verse-by-verse, we simply don't run into texts on exercise with much regularity.  So then we must ask--does that mean physical exercise is unimportant to God?

I believe scripture calls us to answer that question with a firm "no."  While scriptural teaching on the topic is not extensive, it is certainly not absent.  Additionally, we are living 2,000 years later than even the most recently-written biblical texts, in a world that presents different challenges than that of even Jesus' day.  Modern processed and "refined" foods affect our bodies in ways not previously experienced, and our genetics are more affected by entropy than by "evolution."  So it makes sense that the biblical writers would not have addressed our modern American needs for exercise in any detail.  Stewardship of our physical health is simply a different ballgame than it used to be, or than it is in other places in the world even now.

This does not mean, though, that we are left under-equipped to think about this topic.  God promises that, through Scripture, He has provided everything we need to know in order to be completely equipped for every good work He has for us. (2 Timothy 3:16-17)  So it seems that, as we think about life (including exercise) in these physical bodies and find no passages that mention treadmills or basketball, wisdom calls us to search God's word for principles and not just specific topical teaching.  The following article by John Perritt, while certainly not an exhaustive discussion, is a good first step...


This Is the Body the Lord Has Made

From the dreaded magazine aisle at the local supermarket to the borderline pornographic advertisements we see while surfing the internet, we are bombarded with images of the human body. 60 seconds to ripped abs. Lose inches from your waistline while sleeping. These constant "promises" tempt us to discontentment and idolatry. And yet we don't talk enough in our churches about what God wants from our bodies. 


Is our culture's obsession with the human body completely wrong? After all, we believe in a sovereign God who created our bodies. And we know that God doesn't shy away from discussing physical beauty in his Word.  David, Bathsheba, Saul, and Rachel were just a few biblical characters who could have posed for magazine covers. The Bible tells us Esther was beautiful in form and easy on the eyes (Esther 2:7). Absalom, God tells us, didn't have a flaw from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head, and there wasn't another in the land who equaled his appearance (2 Samuel 14:25).

Therefore, it seems that God, too, places a certain amount of emphasis on the physical form. We must not become modern-day gnostics and abhor the physical. So what are Christians to do? How do we begin to think about exercise and body image?  

Exercise and the Curse

Some people want to curse when they hear the word exercise, but they don't often consider the effects of the curse on exercise. We know that God cursed our work after the Fall, but we typically think of this cursing in terms of frustration: jammed printers, bumper-to-bumper traffic, difficult coworkers. 

However, we don't often think about the curse of our work coming in the form of an air-conditioned office, an assistant for every chore, or a comfortable sedan effortlessly transporting us to the office. Our physical bodies were designed to toil and labor, but our labor isn't all that laborious at times. Don't get me wrong, these things are pleasant graces from our Lord. But few of us burn the energy we were created to exert. The curse is now evident in sore backs and achy joints that aren't sore from physical exertion but atrophy. Our modern professions require that we now supplement this physical exertion in the form of exercise.

Busyness and Priorities

Even though most of us know we should exercise, when can we find time? We're driving the kids to different sports, working more than 50 hours, and serving at church—we don't have time and energy left over.

We need to know our priorities. Don't neglect the Lord in Word and prayer. Don't neglect your family. And don't neglect the church. But so also is physical exertion a biblical call (Gen. 2:15; 2 Thess. 3:6-12). Make room in your schedule. Put exercise on the calendar and plan on showing up to the appointment. Kill two birds with one stone by being active with your family and friends, listening to sermons while running, or praying for others while walking around the block. You're keeping multiple priorities in place without sacrificing extra time.

Here's some extra incentive. God, in his infinite wisdom, gives fully functioning bodies to some but not to others. Some humans will never leave a wheelchair and would love to exert their bodies physically. See the arms and legs we have as a grace from God and joyfully use them. As you run that next mile (or think about working up to a mile), thank God for the many muscles working together to propel you along. Rejoice in the Creator of the human body and boast in what he has done.

Priority Not a Profession

We must, however, be cautious of our idolatrous heart. Nothing is necessarily sinful about training for a marathon or doing CrossFit for a couple of hours every day. Of course, if you're only after a 26.2 sticker, you might want to look discerningly at your heart. God has called us to steward the body, but be careful stewardship doesn't turn into worship. If your day is ruined when you miss a workout, chances are you need to trust God to root out some idolatry. If you attach joy to anything other than Jesus, it will fail you.

There's so much more to discuss, but here are 10 final thoughts for reflection as you begin to make exercise a priority:

• As far as results go, think internal—a healthier heart opposed to abs.
• Think of exercise as a literal way of fighting the sin of laziness.
• Christians are charged to be disciplined, and exercise reinforces that discipline.
• This "job" will sometimes get mundane, just like your current one.
• This investment may keep you from becoming a physical and financial liability later in life.
• Physical fitness assists you in serving others.
• Your body houses the Holy Spirit.
• Physical inactivity is often a sin.
• You will feel better.
• Christians, no matter what your body looks like, Jesus redeemed it and one day soon you will have a glorified one.

John Perritt is the youth pastor at Pear Orchard Presbyterian Church in Ridgeland, Mississippi. He is a graduate of Reformed Theological Seminary and hopes to pursue his DMin in youth ministry at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in November 2013. He blogs on film and theology at www.reel-thinking.com. John and his wife, Ashleigh, have three children, Sarah, Samuel, and Jillian.

I covered this topic last fall in a three-week sermon series, but want to bring it before you again.  It may have very significant implications for our future of following Christ here in America, and is an increasingly vivid watershed for indicating who is really following Christ at all.  As one of your pastors and a brother in Christ, I want each of you to be crystal clear on where God calls us to stand, without simultaneously becoming moralistically self-righteous.  This article was helpful on both fronts...

When Did Idolatry Become Compatible with Christianity?

The Story:

Yesterday, during oral arguments in a landmark Supreme Court case regarding same-sex marriage, Associate Justice Antonin Scalia and pro-gay marriage advocate Theodore Olson had a discussion about the Constitution that sheds light on an issue within the church.

The Background:

In the oral argument yesterday for Hollingsworth v. Perry, Justice Scalia repeatedly questioned Ted Olson on when same-sex marriage became unconstitutional. From the transcript:

JUSTICE SCALIA: I'm curious, when—when did — when did it become unconstitutional to exclude homosexual couples from marriage? 1791? 1868, when the Fourteenth Amendment was adopted? Sometimes — some time after Baker, where we said it didn't even raise a substantial Federal question? When — when — when did the law become this?

MR. OLSON: When — may I answer this in the form of a rhetorical question? When did it become unconstitutional to prohibit interracial marriages? When did it become unconstitutional to assign children to separate schools.

JUSTICE SCALIA: It's an easy question, I think, for that one. At — at the time that the Equal Protection Clause was adopted. That's absolutely true. But don't give me a question to my question. When do you think it became
unconstitutional? Has it always been unconstitutional? . . .

MR. OLSON: It was constitutional when we as a culture determined that sexual orientation is a characteristic of individuals that they cannot control, and that that -­

JUSTICE SCALIA: I see. When did that happen? When did that happen?

MR. OLSON: There's no specific date in time. This is an evolutionary cycle.

Why It Matters:

For Christians, this is an era of historical significance—and not just because of the marriage issue. While defending the institution of marriage is an important and worthy goal, the same-sex marriage debate has uncovered a question that is similar to Justice Scalia's: When did it become acceptable for Christians to embrace and endorse homosexual behavior?

Like Mr. Olson, I would say there is no specific date in time. It was the result of an evolutionary cycle in which the church became more accepting of rampant idolatry.

At its root, the issue has more to do with idolatry than marriage, since same-sex marriage could not have advanced in America if believers had not exchanged the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for the God of faux-love, cultural acceptance, and open theism.

The idolatry of Christian same-sex marriage advocates takes two general forms. The first group still recognizes the authority of God's Word, or at least still believes in the general concept of "sin." They will freely admit that, like other types of fornication, same-gender sex is forbidden in the Bible, and even excluded by Jesus' clear and concise definition of marriage. Yet despite this understanding they still choose to embrace same-sex marriage because they have made an idol of American libertarian freedom. They have replaced Jesus' commandment—"You shall love your neighbor as yourself"—with the guiding motto of the neopagan religion of Wicca, "Do what you will, so long as it harms none."

In endorsing laws based solely on the secular liberal-libertarian conception of freedom (at least those that produce no obvious self-harm), they are doing the very opposite of what Jesus called them to do: They are hating their neighbors, including their gay and lesbian neighbors. You do not love your neighbor by encouraging them to engage in actions that invoke God's wrath (Psalm 5:4-5; Romans 1:18). As Christians we may be required totolerate ungodly behavior, but the moment we begin to endorse the same then we too have become suppressers of the truth. You cannot love your neighbor and want to see them excluded from the kingdom of Christ (Eph. 5:5).

The second group has completely rejected the authority of Scripture and embraced the idol of open theism, a god who changes his mind over time. Not surprisingly, this god seems to change his mind in ways that comport exactly with the secular morality of twenty-first century America. A prime example of this embrace of a progressive, open deity is found in a comment by former evangelical pastor Rob Bell. Bell recently said:

What we're seeing now, in this day, is god pulling us ahead into greater and greater affirmation and acceptance of our gay brothers and sisters . . . and we're realizing that god made some of us one way and some of us another and it can be a beautiful thing.

Bell goes on to clarify that what he advocates is not an affirmation and acceptance of repentant sinners, but affirmation and acceptance of their sin. Bell has rejected the God of the Bible, a God that is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8), and embraced a false idol that tells him that what is considered sin changes based on the fickle attitudes of Americans.

Bell, and other same-sex advocates, have moved beyond the temptation and struggle we all have with idolatry and have boldly set up their idols for all to see. Yesterday, on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter, many Christians displayed the red equals sign—a symbol of gay rights and "marriage equality"—so that their friends, family, and followers would see that they stood with the forces opposed to God's Word.

For too long those of us in the church have grumbled to ourselves or remained silent about this open idolatry. We fear that if we point out too clearly or forcefully that you can't both serve God and endorse sin that people may leave our congregations. We seem more concerned with losing the volunteer for the Sunday morning nursery or the regular check in the offering plate than we do with the souls of those in open and unrepentant rebellion against God. We seem more worried about the judgment of the kids in the youth ministry than we do with the judgment of a wrathful and holy God. We are so troubled by the thought that same-sex advocates will fall away from the faith that we fail to see that they've already rejected the faith of historic, orthodox Christianity and replaced it with an idolatrous heresy—one that is as destructive and hateful as any that has come before.

What is needed is courage in speaking the truth: We cannot love our neighbor and tolerate idolatry and unrepentant rebellion against God. We cannot continue with the "go along to get along" mentality that is leading those we love to destruction. We must speak the word of God with boldness (Acts 4:31) and accept the fact that those who have fallen away may not ever return. We must choose this day whom we will serve. Will we stand with the only wise God or with the foolish idol-makers of same-sex marriage?

Joe Carter is an editor for The Gospel Coalition and the co-author of How to Argue Like Jesus: Learning Persuasion from History's Greatest Communicator.