Today, RNS reported that Beth Moore would be leaving the Southern Baptist Convention. Her convictions have not changed recently. She still holds to the inerrancy and authority of Scripture, the fundamental Baptist beliefs, salvation in Christ alone, and still believes her calling, by all indications, is to teach women to love God and his Word. Her most recent Bible Study, on Galatians, seems to represent those convictions. I will leave the details of this decision, in terms of “why?” and “why now?”, to the RNS article. There will be many opinions, no doubt, about this move.
As a lifelong Baptist, I feel that something needs to be said at this moment. I learned the Bible from my mother, who regularly participated in Beth Moore Bible studies. I married into a family where no Beth Moore stone went unturned, and my wife learned Scripture sitting on her living room floor as her mom watched Beth Moore’s bible study materials. I am not an impartial viewer here: over the last few years, my wife and I have become friends with Mrs. Beth, and been the beneficiary of her prayers, encouragement, and kindness. We have disagreements over pizza and over direct messages. We’ve found common ground more often than not. I have disagreed with her, and I have learned from her. But before Beth Moore was ever a friend, she had a tremendous impact on my life, just like so many others, because she did what God created and equipped her to do: she taught women the Bible with an unwavering commitment to show them what it means to have an audacious love for Jesus.
Because of that, I feel there’s something I need to say in this moment, and I think I can speak for hundreds of thousands, if not millions of others.
Thank you, Beth Moore.
We haven’t always agreed, but Beth Moore has given me and countless others something which we cannot repay. When it is all said and done, Beth Moore will leave a legacy of having lead millions of women to love the Bible and study it for themselves. Many women will move beyond her to “deeper“ teachers. Some have moved into other theological traditions. Some have come to the conclusion that they must move on from Beth, as they have come to different conclusions and convictions about theology or the Bible. But her legacy will remain. It seems incredibly unlikely that the vast majority of people who take potshots at her over secondary or tertiary disagreements will have 1/100th of the impact for the kingdom that Beth Moore has had. Meanwhile, their churches will be filled with women who either came to know Christ and study his word for the first time through a Beth Moore study. Instead, even in our disagreements, what Beth Moore has more than earned is our gratefulness.
She isn’t always right, but neither am I. Beth has said there are things she has said and done that she would take back, and Lord knows I have those things, too. But the one thing Beth Moore cannot take back is the impact she has had on my life, my mom’s life, my mother-in-laws life, my wife’s life, and the hundreds of thousands of women and men in Southern Baptist churches either directly or indirectly.
In an era marked by the “battle for the Bible,” Beth Moore taught millions not just to fight for it, but to study, love it, and stake their life on it. She taught them how to see Jesus in the Bible and to how to love him.
And frankly, that’s more important than our disagreements. Thank you, Mrs. Beth. You are welcome at my church, or my kitchen table, any time.
In an era marked by the “battle for the Bible,” Beth Moore taught millions not just to fight for it, but to study, love it, and stake their life on it. She taught them how to see Jesus in it and how to love him. Thank you, Beth Moore.
The Spanish Inquisition has nothing on the current Evangelical online world when it comes to heresy trials. Though, unlike the Spanish Inquisition, you expect it. There was a time where theologians emphasized that the Christian life was lived coram Deo. Now, however, the work of theology possesses the gravity of a work done coramMob. Theologians, pastors, and laypeople alike must guard themselves ever so closely, lest any small statement they make about God be the evidence against them in the next twitter tribunal. Facebook knows no mercy.
The church, it seems, is nothing but heretics. The Calvinists are heretics for their views on predestination. The Arminians are heretics for their man-centeredness. The revivalists are heretics for creating false converts. The Baptists are heretics for being Baptist. Some Reformed teachers are heretics for their Federal Vision theology, while others have become heretics for their sacramentalism. Whatever followers of N.T. Wright are called, they are heretics for reasons so multitudinous they can not be recounted here. The Anglicans are heretics for their sacerdotalism and the Methodists are heretics for refusing to separate from the liberals. The Charismatics are heretics for speaking in tongues, and the churches with an American flag in their sanctuary have abandoned the faith for Christian Nationalism. If you are concerned about matters of social justice–your heretical capitulation to the social gospel is easily documented. If you’re concerned about the excesses of social justice, then your’e probably a racist or a bigot. The egalitarians are heretics for compromising the Bible, and the complementarians are oppressors.
The one true church, thankfully, is still healthy and very much alive. It is composed of you, and me, and those who agree with us. God must be relieved to have us.
Obviously, the last two paragraphs were written fully tongue in cheek. With very little time, however, I believe I could identify accusations of heresy, compromise of doctrine or the gospel itself, or some other extreme allegation against dissenters from whatever preferred view in no time at all. I have managed social media accounts for two major Christian organizations and something stands out: the comment sections are a total, unmitigated disaster. No matter how many people I block or ban, toxicity oozes from the comment sections like stink from a sewer. Christian blog and YouTube comments make the TMZ comment section look tame. We hate each other, and ask you to subscribe to our Patreon if you hate the same people that we do. Entire networks are formed solely to oppose people we otherwise agree with 98% of the time. The comments would make more sense often if the reader imagine they were full of curse words. At least then the vocabulary would match the tone.
An Inheritance of Insults
It is past time that we began to do better. It is past time that we stop disgracing ourselves online. It is past time that we learned how to disagree while maintaining fellowship. If we are going to learn to disagree better, we have to acknowledge that the history of the Christian church has deeded us an inheritance of insults. We should refuse to carry forward that legacy.
If we are going to learn to disagree better, we have to acknowledge that the history of the Christian church has deeded us an inheritance of insults. We should refuse to carry forward that legacy.
This problem is not unique to us. Examples are easy to find. Jerome became so angry with Rufinus in a theological spat that the refused to refer to him by any name other than Grunnius Corocotta Porcellius. For those who don’t speak Latin, that translates roughly to “Porky the Grunter.” Research has not yet yielded answers as to whether he insulted his mother, too. St. Nicholas is rumored to have punched Arius (though the tale is widely disputed, it is also widely regaled). Martin Luther’s insults were so legendary, there is now an entire website devoted to them. We hear these stories, and we laugh. They’re common jokes around seminaries and churches.
I can’t help but think of the Apostle Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 5:2. He says, “And you are arrogant! Ought you not rather to mourn?” Of course, Paul’s context and the issue at hand was far different. But shouldn’t we? To state the obvious, Martin Luther was sinning when he spoke in such ways. Why do we talk about his foul language as if its a badge of honor, or wish we could talk like that if people weren’t so sensitive these days? Needless to say, naming a rival theologian Porky the Grunter in public debate hardly meets the standard of loving your enemies.
Are we not called to something better?
Why do we talk about Martin Luther’s foul language towards his opponents as if its a badge of honor, or wish we could talk like that if people weren’t so sensitive these days?
It is time that Christians of all stripes learned to disagree better. There are countless ways to do this, but for the sake of this post I want to suggest we learn just one phrase. If we can internalize this phrase, what it means and what it doesn’t mean, it will make a radical difference for how we engage other Christians with who we disagree. The phrase is this:
“You are wrong, brother.”
Alternatively, “brother” can be exchanged for “sister”.
The threat of heresy is genuine and it does occur in the church. There are men and women who subvert the gospel itself: denying the bodily resurrection, teaching that we can save ourselves, proclaiming the gospel secures worldly riches instead of eternal salvation, or teaching against the Trinity, among other things. There are those who revive old heresies. Some false teachers are easy to identify and should be warned against. But others are simply wrong.
We must learn to differentiate between a malicious false teacher and someone with whom we have a serious disagreement.
Solely because you feel strongly about a particular second or third tier doctrine does not elevate its status of importance. I get it: I have strong opinions, and therefore some strong disagreements. I think John MacArthur’s dispensationalism is novel, lacking evidence, and leads to bad biblical interpretation. That does not make him a false teacher. I am grateful for countless charismatic men and women, and I also have countless disagreements with them on spiritual gifts. I love Presbyterians, I just hate that so few of them are actually baptized. Apologetics folks who love Van Til, just….no. I think the Purpose-Driven model drives you into a ditch. Pastors in my denomination talk about revival like it’s a lawnmower engine that just needs more gas and it drives me nuts. But, each of them in turn can be dead wrong without me either a) being a jerk about it or b) believing that my passion on a subject can make it a first tier issue worthy of separation. These brothers, and these sisters, are wrong. But I am not compelled to destroy them or call them heretics on the basis of our secondary disagreements.
When we learn to say, “You are wrong, brother,” we acknowledge our disagreement for what they are while affirming our love for our opponents that is grounded in the brotherhood and sisterhood we have in Christ. Because they are a brother, or a sister, we owe them a measure of respect and love in our engagements. By recognizing them as a brother or sister, we have a common ground: one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all (Eph 4:5). Our union with Christ is greater than our theological opinions or missiological convictions. At the same time, we do recognize our conviction that they are wrong on the matter at hand. Or, at least I think they are—sometimes with great conviction. There is no reason for us to pretend we do not have differences, or pretend that those differences don’t matter! But our certitude about our union in Christ should outweigh and surpass our certitude that we have the final say in the debate.
Our differences matter. But affection does not require agreement.
Christians so often decry cancel culture, but it’s hard to understand why sometimes. When it comes to theological disagreement, Christians have perfected the art of the cancel. We speak it fluently. It has become our mother tongue. Internet trolls could learn a thing or two about online mobs by reading the comments of popular Christian blog ministries. The KGB could take notes on sowing division by monitoring Evangelical internet behavior. The church debated for centuries to establish orthodoxies in the ecumenical councils. Now, we label pastors, preachers, and people we don’t like as heretics after reading a single blog post.
Our differences matter. But affection does not require agreement.
Brothers and sister, things cannot continue this way. Our love for one another must surpass our disagreement with one another. Our desire for truth must be matched by our commitment to the foundational truth that we are united together in Christ. Our zeal for the gospel cannot create a standard of fellowship that is “the gospel + all of my secondary theological, political, and cultural beliefs.”
Jesus said we would be know for our love. Frankly, we ain’t.
If we are going to, we must learn to love one another: online, in disagreements, and in different denominations. Otherwise, what right do we have to talk about a gospel of grace that breaks down the wall of hostility between us?
You may be wrong, brother, but I still should love you. I’m going to try to do better.
I recently ran across a quote from a book I read some years ago, and which I think remains immensely relevant. I wanted to share the quote, and a short meditation on it here. Often, churches get accused of being boring because of musical style, programs (or lack thereof), or the production value. But that’s not what makes churches boring. Listen to the following quote from Why We Love the Church: In Praise of Institutions and Organized Religion by Kevin DeYoung and Ted Kluck (p. 102):
Church isn’t boring because we’re not showing enough film clips, or because we play an organ instead of a guitar. It’s boring because we neuter it of its importance. Too often we treat our spiritual lives like the round of golf [where we just talk about what we think about God]… At the end of my life, I want my friends and family to remember me as someone who battled for the gospel, who tried to mortify sin in my life, who fought hard for life, and who contended earnestly for the faith. Not just as a nice guy who occasionally noticed the splendor of the mountains God created, while otherwise trying to enjoy myself, manage my schedule, and work on my short game.
In other words, church isn’t boring because of style. Church becomes boring when we make the gospel secondary, make our entertainment primary, and stop bearing one another’s burdens to fulfill the law of Christ (Gal 6:2).
I can think of countless churches with organs, hymns, and liturgy that are very much alive because they take God and his Word seriously. I can think of churches that resemble rock concerts that are nearly dead, because they’ve become all about entertainment and hardly at all about keeping God central to all their hustle and bustle of ‘doing church’. There is no ‘style’ that keeps churches alive. Only the Spirit, working in the substance of the Word, to transform men and women into the image of Christ (2 Cor. 3:17-18).
There’s no blogger whose writing I have consumed or appreciated more over the last decade than Jared Wilson. I want to point back to an old post from Jared called “The ‘Religious People’ Boogeyman. Originally, Jared wrote this post in response to a controversy with Perry Noble in 2011. This was even before he was blogging at TGC, and when For The Church wasn’t yet a twinkle in his eye.
Now, it’s been edited and reposted at For the Church (which, if you don’t have FTC bookmarked, you should). You should take 10 minutes and go read the whole thing. Here’s a small snippet:
It is so common a rhetorical practice among the preachers and speakers that I fear it is a systemic dysfunction in the attractional church paradigm which has defined itself largely in contrast to the boring, irrelevant, “traditional” church. This is what I’m talking about: The warning that there are “religious people” in our churches threatening our contempo-casual culture.
First of all, there are people in every church, no matter what kind of church it is, who struggle with the distinction between law and gospel, who struggle with the driving place of grace in their pursuit of holiness, so it won’t do to deny that legalism looms in our churches. Legalism lurks in every heart, actually, mine and yours. But this constant invoking of the judgmental “religious people” is very often a boogeyman. It’s an imagined threat, a scare tactic employed to both justify dumb exercises in license and arouse the self-satisfied mockery of self-identified “grace people.”
Over the last decade, a great debate has raged about prioritizing reaching cities in our church planting efforts. This past week, I looked back at this short (15 min) message from Tim Keller at the Lausanne Conference in 2010 answering these questions: Why must we reach the cities? How should we reach those cities? How can we reach those cities?
It’s an interesting debate, and has had wide reaching influence. Under similar frameworks, the North American Mission Board has spent the better part of the last decade focusing on “Send Cities” in their mission efforts. Keller’s own church planting network has focused on cities. The list could go on and on.
I thought this was an interesting video to look back on and reflect: how have Keller’s arguments proved to be true? Where have we learned otherwise, if at all? It certainly seems to me that we’ve learned about our limitations in influencing the culture. If anything, the trend of exvangelical deconversion from so many “major Christian figures” in city centers is worth exploring. Likewise, I would be interested to see if Christians have made any measurable impact on cities in terms of culture.
If you’re reading this, I’d be interested to hear what you think.
Today I listened to one of the most important, timely podcast episodes I have heard in a long time. The episode is “Leaders Who Won’t Flame Out” with Paul Tripp, the most recent installment of the Gospelbound with Collin Hansen.
Tripp has a new book releasing Lead: 12 Gospels Principles for Leadership in the Church. In the episode, he describes the book as a followup to his book Dangerous Calling. This earlier book was a huge hit among pastors when it released in 2013. One of the things Tripp draws attention to is the initial endorsements for the book on the back cover.
Those endorsements include Tullian Tchividjian and James MacDonald. Both are now out of ministry, having been publicly disgraced for the very kind of prideful and domineering spirit that the book encourages against. They are two of many high profile pastors to disqualify themselves from ministry in recent years.
Tripp says that when he wrote the initial work, he would have pointed at the pastor when you asked him why a certain leader had a “fall from grace”, whether sexual promiscuity, abuse, abuse of power, pride, etc. The issue was something in their heart. Now he looks somewhere different for early signs. Tripp says he would instead ask about the community around the pastor. Are those who should be holding the pastor accountable and protecting him from his own sin and the temptations that leaders face now his chief defenders? Is the most seasoned pastor that everyone looks up to a 40 year old? Does anyone have the ability to call the leader to repent if he engages in sinful behavior in a meeting? In Lead, Tripp says he discusses these principles and more, providing recommendations for how to create healthy churches and healthy church cultures.
My heart was moved listening to Tripp articulate what a healthy gospel community looks like, both for pastors and those who they shepherd or lead. It is impossible for me not to see this crisis of character in our church leadership culture. As a young man, one of my Sunday School teachers went to prison for sexual abuse. The pastor who was preacher when God first began to call me to ministry was outed for a multi-decade adulterous affair. One of the first ministry conferences I attended was headlined by 3 pastors who are no longer in ministry due to their sinful actions in leadership. Over the span of the next decade, I can name at least 15 leaders who I have admired, known, or looked to as a model have disqualified themselves due to sexual sin, sinful abuse of authority, or various manifestations of pride. My spiritual “family tree” is littered with destruction such that I can not look back on any major period of spiritual growth in my life without experiencing grief over the fallen leaders who ministered to me then but are gone now.
I can not say why it happened to each of them. But here’s what I know: every time it has happened, it has caused me to grieve and question myself. It should not be this way. Young men like myself should not have a spiritual graveyard full of their former role models.
How do we prevent this?
Tripp says, “The key to longevity is spiritual health…the key to spiritual health is gospel community. There’s the book.”
I can not recommend this podcast enough. You can listen to the whole thing by clicking below for iTunes or Spotify, or listen to the YouTube embed above.
I’ll never forget where I was the first time I heard of Bethel Church. I was at my own church. A few weeks before I had begun what would ultimately be a few months of preaching to our youth group while the church searched for a new youth pastor. One Wednesday night, I’m sitting in there and my buddy turns on this music video: “Walk In the Promise”, by Bethel Church. I remember thinking to myself, Who is that?!? I was stunned. I immediately fell for the music, and over the next few years regularly listened to music and musicians out of Bethel Church—Jeremy Riddle, Jesus Culture, Jenn Johnson, etc. I loved it. As I looked a little deeper, it became apparent to me that I had some real differences with the church itself. Good music is good music though, right? I pushed my concerns away. Then a friend sent me the video at the bottom of this page (and then troubling video after troubling video after that), and everything changed. I decided that, for better or worse, Bethel Church and I disagreed too much and too strongly for me to continue wholeheartedly endorsing their stuff. I was done. I’m still done.
For the most part, I’ve stayed away from Bethel, though many churches I have been a part of have sung and benefited from their songs. This week, however, I couldn’t stay silent any longer. I noticed this video popping up on my Facebook timeline over and over again, sometimes with angry comments and sometimes with wholehearted support. Too many people I love have liked it, shared it, or asked about it. In the video, children’s pastor Seth Dahl talks about coming to the point of forgiveness after a pastor deeply hurt him, but instead of forgiving the pastor, Dahl says that he had to forgive Jesus.
Watch it for yourself ( transcribed below):
“One time I was laying on the floor… and in a vision, an encounter with God, Jesus picks me up and holds me so close that I can’t see anything. And Jesus starts to weep. And he says, “Please forgive me. Please forgive me.” And I said, “What are you talking about, ‘please forgive you’?” He said, “When that pastor hurt you, it’s as if I hurt you because he is a member of my body. Please forgive me.” And when we hold onto pain from other believers or other leaders or old pastors or old Christians, look—the enemy is called the accuser of the brethren—any thought that accuses a brother had its origin with the devil. Any pain I hold onto from a believer, and unforgiveness that I hold onto from another believer, Jesus actually takes it. Think about the cross, what Jesus did: he did not sin but he paid for ours. He did not sin, but he let us kill him for our sin. He took the blame for us. He took our blame and let us punish him for our stuff. So why would he not look at you and say, “That pain you’re holding onto, that hurt you’re holding onto, that unforgiveness you’re holding onto, look—holding it against them is like you are holding it against me, because they are a member of my body.” And I wept when I realized that I had been in pain from God—from what I thought was God. I don’t know if that made sense. It wasn’t that God inflicted the pain. It’s that God took the blame for inflicting the pain, and holding it against my brother was like holding it against God. And I wept, and I wept, and I wept as I forgave Jesus for something he didn’t do but someone else did. And I didn’t realize until that moment that holding it against them, I was actually distancing myself from God. To distance myself from them, I was distancing myself from God.”
It’s easy to get riled up by a video like this. If we give him the benefit of the doubt, what Dahl is after is this: Jesus calls us to forgive those who sin against us, as we have been forgiven in Christ. Every pain, every grief that we hold in that becomes the root of bitterness for us is sin. When we refuse to forgive, we do not act like Christ—we deny the gospel by our actions.
At that level, Dahl is right. It cannot be ignored, though, how troubling what Dahl actually said is. Dahl reverses the logic of substitution of the cross, making Christ not just the bearer of sin but the sinner himself. Notices what “Jesus” says to him:
“Please forgive me. Please forgive me…”
Dahl goes on, “And I wept when I realized that I had been in pain from God—from what I thought was God. I don’t know if that made sense. It wasn’t that God inflicted the pain. It’s that God took the blame for inflicting the pain, and holding it against my brother was like holding it against God. And I wept, and I wept, and I wept as I forgave Jesus for something he didn’t do but someone else did.”
For Dahl then, who needs the forgiveness? Jesus does. Jesus becomes the offender. A video like this one is tough. Our gut reaction is to scream, “No!” or to be disgusted, but when we get down to it, it’s more problematic. “Jesus is the offender.” Isn’t that right? After all, doesn’t 2 Corinthians 5:21 say that , “…he who knew no sin became sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” Didn’t Jesus become the “cursed” man (Gal. 3:13) for us? Of course he did. But that’s not what Dahl says.
To be fair, Dahl does say, “He did not sin.” That much is to his credit. But the way Dahl frames forgiveness here is deadly at worst and pastorally harmful at best. What kind of teaching is this? Who is God that he should need to be forgiven? 1 John 1:5 tells us, “This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” And yet Dahl says that Jesus himself told him that it was actually Him, Jesus, who did the misdeed. Because the one who sinned is in Christ, it is as if Christ himself sinned. Christ has become a sinner in need of forgiveness from his own creation.
Let’s get to the point: Dahl has totally subverted the truth of the gospel. He has flipped it on its head. Christ is our substitute, because he is without sin. It’s because Christ is not in need of forgiveness that he is a perfectly righteous substitute for us (2 Cor. 5:21) and advocate before God (1 John 2:1). Jesus is not empathetic with us because he becomes a sinner. Jesus is empathetic with us because he took on human flesh with all of its weakness and insufficiency and it was there, in the likeness of sinful flesh(Rom. 8:3) that he upheld the law completely. We “have a high priest who is not unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Hebrews 4:15).
I can not help but be reminded of Jesus touching the woman with an issue of blood in Luke 8:40-48. As Jesus traveled along his way, a crowd pressed in and a woman who had been bleeding for twelve years touched him. She was unclean. Under law, Jesus should have become unclean. But that’s not what happens. Instead, the woman is healed immediately (8:47). Likewise, when sinners in the church hurt people, it is not Jesus who is tainted. When sinners are in Christ, regardless of their sinfulness, it is they who are changed. Yes, Christ takes their sin away from them. But Christ has paid that penalty. He is a resurrected and glorified Lord, spotless and free from all sin. It is us who are changed by relationship with him; it is us who are cleansed.
At its best, Dahl’s message here misses the heart of the gospel message (and that’s not what you want to be best at), a message where the righteousness of God is revealed (Romans 1:17) and we see God as he is, as one who never needs forgiveness. At its worst, Dahl’s message is victim blaming. After all, Dahl does not merely encourage listeners to the imperative of the gospel (“forgive as the Lord has forgiven you”). Rather, he says that when we hold onto not just unforgiveness, but pain itself, we hold that very pain against God. It switches all of the responsibility off of the guilty party and on to the victim. He says, “Any thought that accuses a brother had its origin with the devil.” So now, if a victim does not immediately move from offense to forgiveness, what they are participating in is something demonic. This is just heaping on guilt, and shame, burdens too large to bear.
Everyone has a bad moment. I know as well as anyone that in the preaching moment, it is easy to mis-step. This, however, was no misspoken word. It’s clear that Dahl knew exactly what he was saying. He says that Jesus himself told him this in a vision. And it’s because of that, that claim to divine revelation, that I can’t help but look at what he’s teaching and look at how he says he got this message, and conclude that Dahl is teaching a lie. Worse still, he makes Jesus a liar, because he claims Jesus says something that so clearly contradicts the Scriptures. He’s saying thus says the Lord and the Lord has said no such thing. We should run from this. I probably wouldn’t say anything if this weren’t such a popular video, and such a regular occurrence out of Bethel Church. (For an even more egregious misrepresentation of the gospel, see the video below.)
I don’t take any joy in this. It isn’t fun to write a post like this—in fact, I never have before. A.W. Tozer is right, though: What comes to mind when we think about God is the most important about us. If we accept this sort of teaching, if we follow these sort of teachers, then we will come to worship a God who not only needs to forgive us, but who needs us to forgive him. A God like that is not only unworthy of the songs Bethel sings— He is unworthy of worship at all. A God who needs our forgiveness is a God who can not save. It is the God who is wholly righteous, the God of all grace, the God who has set Christ his Son as perfect head over the imperfect church, who is worthy of worship. Let’s listen to teachers that teach us about that God.
___________________________
Is this what we want? More important, is this really what God has shown us in his word that He wants? Surely not.
I don’t mind admitting a little bias here. Dr. Robert Smith is one of my mentors. He is a preaching father to me. Still, this is the only sermon that has ever made me weep. I’ll never forget telling the story Dr. Smith’s preaching making me cry to Dr. Hershael York, preaching professor at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He said that Dr. Smith had likewise made him weep in a sermon, so much so that he had to pull over his car. As we discussed what it was that got us, we realized something: it was the same sermon. This is that sermon. An exposition from Romans 8, Dr. Smith’s sermon “The Glory of the Groan” will swell your heart with the goodness of the Gospel and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. This is the best sermon I have ever heard.
2. The Shepherd and His Unregenerate Sheep – Matt Chandler This sermon caught me in two waves. At the beginning of my time at Auburn University, I was partying heavily. I was filled with guilt. I hated church and didn’t want to go anywhere near it. I saw God as vindictive and angry with me. My friend Drew casually sent me the now-famous “Jesus Wants The Rose” clip, and it changed my life. It turned me back to the Bible. It led me to learn the Gospel. It started me on the road to repentance.
When I was first called to ministry, I knew it was to preach. At the same time, I knew I still didn’t want to be anywhere near the church. The church was a place that wasted time on fun and games, that fought and gossiped, that said the Bible was inerrant but didn’t teach it with any measure of faithfulness. From the “Jesus wants the rose” clip to Chandler’s discussion of gospel-centered preaching, to his call for a holy life, this sermon has shaped me totally in regards to how I view ministry. I’m not sure there is a single thing in this sermon that I feel uneasy with or remotely disagree with. I have probably listened to this one at least 30 times. It has meant that much to me. I still feel joy when I hear it through remembering the good work God did in me as I heard it the first time.
3. Prayer As a Way of Walking In Love – Francis Chan
After my first semester of seminary, I was in a pretty desperate place with money, family, personal life, and more. For a variety of reasons, I had gotten into a rut where I simply would not ask God for things. I was anxious. I was falling apart. And now I will never forget that first line I heard in the sermon: “Jesus loves me this I know, because the Bible tells me so. Yes that’s true, but at this point in my life I can also say that I know Jesus loves me because of how he answers my prayers.” No sermon has affected my relationship with God through prayer as much as this one.
4. “Getting Out” – Tim Keller
I’ll never forget where I was when I heard this sermon. I was in my bedroom at college. I was trying to do laundry and listen to this, but before long I ended up laying on the bed and listening. I laid there about half and hour after the sermon ended with my mind racing. Wait, did he just…. did he really…. how did he see…. that’s how we read the Bible… WHAT?! This sermon is an amazing example of Biblical theology in preaching. If you’ve never heard, prepare to be amazed.
5. Passion, Purpose, and Designer Jeans – Louie Giglio Louie’s winsome plea to student at the Passion conference is one of the most helpful sermons on vocation I have ever heard. His stories are engaging—Louie may be the best public speaker on this list. At a time when I and so many of my friends were struggling with a call to ministry or secular vocation, as well as not dividing our faith from our work, this sermon proved enormously beneficial.
6. The Mission – J.R. Vassar J.R. Vassar is one of my favorite preachers. I have found his teaching on Sabbath and his teaching on mission to be some of the most clear and helpful there is. J.R. sermon here, from an Acts 29 Bootcamp for pastors, is a lucid explanation of what exactly the mission of the church is. I have listened to this sermon at least 10 times.
7. Passion for the Supremacy of God, Pt. 1 & 2 – John Piper
These two sermons, preached by John Piper at Passion 1997, are among the most famous of John Piper’s entire sermon corpus, which is really saying something. These sermons are especially precious to me for two reasons: 1) These sermons were the sermons that laid the foundation for Matt Chandler’s ministry that has meant so much to me and 2) these sermons further put in me a passion for the glory of God.
If this list had unlimited spots, I could have filled it with Billy Graham sermons. Billy Graham preaches with power and conviction that should be an model for all preachers. His interaction with the communist worldview, politics of the day, the Scripture, and passion for missions is commendable. This is a true classic.
I’ve included a clip of the sermon below, and a link to the full sermon.
9. Holy Spirit Empowered Ministry – Eric Mason
I heard this sermon in February of 2011 at The Resurgence “Our Fathers, Our Future” conference. I had never heard Eric Mason preach before this. It was my understanding that the session I was on the front row of seating for would be R.C. Sproul. I’ve never been so delighted to not get what I want. This sermon shaped my thinking at an incredibly formative time for me.
10. Universalism and The Reality of Eternal Punishment – Sinclair Ferguson
This two-part sermon by Sinclair Ferguson left me with a weight that, quite frankly, was terrifying. I don’t like to think about Hell. After Rob Bell’s book Love Wins came out, a friend pointed me towards this defense of the traditional doctrine of hell. It is weighty, saddening, and Biblical. But to have a theology where the doctrine of Hell is absent could only represent a loss. These sermons gave me that. Do not listen to these as you do other things. Set time aside.
Intimacy With God – Andy Stanley Andy is an incredible communicator and this sermon shows that. Not only that, the teaching is solid. Andy and I don’t always agree, but when he’s on I think he’s one of the very best.
Moral Purity In Your Marriage – Dr. Russell Moore Teaching on purity is often just shaming and guilting. Not this sermon. Dr. Moore is winsome, Biblical, and extends the grace of the gospel at every turn.
Divine Sovereignty: The Fuel for Death Defying Missions – David Platt If you’ve never wept in public before, don’t make the same mistake I did by listening to this sermon on a plane. I was headed to Boston for a business trip, and thought I’d throw on a podcast. Huge mistake. Platt’s passion for the glory of God among all the people brought me to tears by the end of the sermon as David Platt lifted me up to the glorious throne room of our crucified Lord.
Never Spoke a Man Like This Before – Kevin DeYoung
In this sermon, primarily from the Gospel of John, Kevin DeYoung argues that Scripture’s inerrancy, authority, and sufficiency provides a foundation for both the truth of the gospel and our confidence in evangelism. Christians believe this not because of a modern, man-made ideal of “inerrancy,” but because Jesus himself thought and taught this way. As DeYoung said, “It’s impossible to uphold the Bible more than Jesus did. I heard this sermon at T4G 2014 and remember thinking, “Every Christian everywhere should hear this.”
The Path Sermon Series by Matt Chandler After I was called to ministry and heard “The Shepherd and His Unregenerate Sheep” sermon, I turned to this. To this day, I would argue that it is the best sermon series I have ever heard. Not only that, in the middle of this sermon Matt received a diagnosis of terminal brain cancer. He returned to complete the series. What remains now is one of the best, short set of sermons you will ever hear on the Gospel-centered sanctification in all of life.
I’ll never forget telling the story Dr. Smith’s preaching making me cry to Dr. Hershael York, preaching professor at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He said that Dr. Smith had likewise made him weep in a sermon, so much so that he had to pull over his car. As we discussed what it was that got us, we realized something: it was the same sermon. This is that sermon. An exposition from Romans 8, Dr. Smith’s sermon “The Glory of the Groan” will swell your heart with the goodness of the Gospel and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. This is the best sermon I have ever heard.
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