The influence of a sixteen-year-old has risen on the world stage, and Christians should take notice. Greta Thunberg, or just “Greta” is an environmental activist who is speaking at larger and larger events. Recently she spoke to a half million people in Montreal. Clearly, Greta has inspired people with her message.
The Search for Inspiration
Regardless of the degree of concern, you have about climate change, you can’t ignore the way a teenager has given inspiration to many of her peers and their parents.
Since Greta speaks with clarity and boldness about her views, she has galvanized the attention of young people in a hyper-distracted age. We know that keeping people’s attention is very difficult. Greta has spoken into the cultural moment with something that Millenials have been hungering for: inspiration.
It is easily forgotten that for all of our googling wisdom and instragrammed postures, there is a sterility and banality about life which millenials are feeling deeply. The result is that they know something isn’t right. And they don’t want to hear platitudes from the Boomers and GenXers that everything is going to be okay. As Greta said:
Adults keep saying we owe it to the young people to give them hope. But I don’t want your hope. I don’t want you to be hopeful; I want you to panic. I want you to feel the fear I feel every day. And then I want you to act, I want you to act as you would in a crisis. I want you to act as if the house was on fire, because it is.
Greta has inspired the Millenial generation to think about more ultimate issues than cat videos and the Kardashians. But her message of inspiration, like so many other would-be prophets, fails to be ultimate enough. Her universal call for panic is not panicked enough, and in another way, it is panic that is misdirected.
The Panic of Hell
What Christians should recognize is that Greta has reintroduced the power of future damnation into our minds. The panic of global climate catastrophe (only about a decade away it is claimed), has created an urgency, immediacy and summoning power to a teenager’s message. It is a secularized version of the panic of being hell-bound.
At a time when evangelical Christians have utterly muted any talk of the panic of a literal damnation in hell, Greta has placed the panic of ‘the house on fire’ as her central point of inspiration.
An Urgent Message
Maybe Christians should learn to both inspire and warn in ways that Greta cannot. Who among evangelicals today does not get just a bit squeamish to say along with John the Baptist, “flee from the wrath to come” (Luke 3:7)? Or Jesus’s striking words, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” (John 9:39)?
Could the warning to metaphorical ‘weeds’ of the world be any more panic-inducing than to tell them where they are going? As Jesus said they go into “the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matthew 13:42).
Maybe we should inspire and warn in the ways that Jesus did. Greta is doing it for her message. How much more should we do so for the message of Jesus?
One of the blessings that have been handed down through the ages has been the record of pastoral care contained in letters. From Paul and John’s letters to the correspondence of Augustine, Calvin, Newton and Rutherford, we possess the fruit of their pastoral care put on display.
In a letter to the church members of Kilmacolm, Samuel Rutherford (d.1661), addressed their concerns about being worn down and tired from holding true to the Christian faith. The social turmoil brought by persecutions and counter-revolutions made the people of this church complain about their spiritual fatigue and feelings of weakness.
Like many Christians, they were wanting to relax a bit. In Rutherford’s words, their problem was that they saw their calling to obey God (personally and as a church) as too demanding, and they wanted to loosen up a bit. He said, “You write that God’s vows are lying [heavy] on you”. It appeared that the Christians at Kilmacolm were looking for a less strict confession of faith, a quicker compromise to current church debates, and a smoother pathway to comfortable Christianity.
Rutherford replied with three remedies to this apparent longing for spiritual ease and earthly security in the midst of their weakness.
1. Life Isn’t Easy Until We Are in Heaven
Rutherford addressed the common desire for things to go easy. We all desire an easier life and when things get difficult we can act surprised. Rutherford’s response was to point out that life isn’t easy until we are in heaven. In heaven, when the victory is complete, then we can sleep. He said, “if I sleep, I would desire to sleep faith’s sleep in Christ’s bosom”.
Rutherford knew that like the disciples who slept as Jesus was in Gethsemane (Mt 26:43), our natural selves, “loveth not the labour of religion”. Rutherford was telling the Kilmacolm church that they needed to admit that their desires for “a break” when it came to church controversies and biblical obedience, was a natural temptation to choose sleepy ease in this life, rather than the rest that resides in heaven alone.
2. Worrying About Staying Faithful Can Show a Lack of Faith
It is a common feature in churches that people’s complaints reveal the things they aren’t trusting God for. Caring about doctrine is too hard. Loving the unlovable is too difficult. Submitting to authority is too chafing. Yet in each case, the complaint that a call to obedience is too much, reveals that a person doesn’t think God can give the grace needed to obey.
Rutherford made the observation that “Sorrow for a slumbering soul is a token of some watchfulness of spirit”. By this, he meant that because people actually cared about doctrine, obedience, and faithful witness, it would lead to spiritual fatigue. He said that this willingness to “care” was a grace. But this caring, he said, “as a grace in us is too often abused”. Worrying too much about the difficulties of staying faithful can show a lack of faith in God who keeps us faithful (Phil 1:6, 2 Tim 2:13). The fact that Christians get tired of obedience and ‘suffering outside the camp’ (Hebrews 13:13), shows that they may not be trusting God for the strength to persevere.
3. Weakness invites Christ’s comfort to you.
Our weakness is evidence that we are not in heaven yet, but it does hold promise that Christ will comfort us until we get there. Rutherford explained this comforting idea to his correspondents when he said, “To [lack] complaints of weakness, is for heaven, and angels that never sinned, not for Christians in Christ’s camp on earth”.
Rutherford pointed out that one of the defining characteristics of the church is its weakness. He said:
“I think our weakness maketh us the church of the redeemed ones, and Christ’s field that the Mediator should labour in. If there were no diseases on earth, there needed no physicians on earth. If Christ had cried down weakness he might have cried down his own calling. But weakness is our Mediator’s world: sin is Christ’s only fair and market.
Letters, 156-157
So when we are feeling especially weak, we can trust that we are clearly qualified to receive comfort from God. As we share in Christ’s sufferings, we share in his comfort too. (2 Cor 1:3-7). Paul received comfort when he learned from the Lord, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9). This was the overarching truth that Rutherford was sharing.
Rutherford knew that when we are weak, our strength must come from the Lord. And so, Rutherford said, “we are carried upon Christ’s shoulders, and walk, as it were, upon his legs”.
As many Christians grow fatigued in their walk of faith, they need to realize that an easy life on earth is not the answer. Rather it is to find the help of Christ’s legs to carry us on. That was Rutherford’s counsel on an August day in 1639 and it applies directly to us today.
As a twenty-something newlywed, I climbed the steps of the Royal Conservatory on Bloor Street in Toronto, eager to meet my petite French vocal coach for my regular lesson. I had no idea that a mere four years later I would become a pastor’s wife. My artsy, hipster existence would be forever changed.
Being married to a man with a shepherd’s heart is a wonderful blessing, but it also comes with unique challenges. When my husband transitioned from a Toronto Professor to a Calgary Pastor, the biggest change for me was that my house suddenly became transparent.
It’s no secret that pastor’s families live in glass houses. If you are married to a pastor, you’ve likely had to reckon with what it means to live your life in this highly visible role. Pride would have us try to live up to everyone’s standards, but as the wizened among us will tell you, perfectionism only results in unfulfilled expectations.
The irony of pride is that it makes us fearful, anxious and insecure. We constantly have to prove we are as good as we think we are.
Fortunately for pastor’s wives (and every other human on the planet), the bible nowhere praises people for their perfection and self-sufficiency. Instead we are encouraged to live every day in view of God’s grace.
An Example in Sarah
The Apostle Peter held Sarah up as woman “who hoped in God” precisely because she placed her hope in Someone better than herself (1 Pet. 3:5).
Sarah wasn’t called a “holy” woman because she was sinless. She was called a holy woman because, when she sinned, she repented and her life shows a pattern of obedience and hope in God.
In hope, she looked to God when He called her husband, Abram, to leave Ur of the Chaldeans, with no idea where they were going (Heb.11:8). In hope, she looked to God through the inherent dangers in travel, even when Abraham lied about who she was on two separate occasions, and foreign kings took her as what we can only assume to be a concubine (Gen. 12, 20).
After waiting until the twilight of her life to conceive, Sarah’s faith came to the ultimate test when God told Abraham to sacrifice their precious son on an altar. Her faith was tried and tested, and as Peter said earlier in his letter, faith tested by fire is more precious than gold.
What Sarah exemplifies for us is not perfection, but a persevering faith. Sarah’s trials taught her to reject the false security of people and circumstances, and instead hope in something better. This is why Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit holds her up as an example of a “holy woman who hopes in God.”
Secure in God’s Grace
It’s a mistake to tread lightly at the throne of grace. When trials or criticism make us feel unstable and vulnerable, that is precisely when we need to lean in more. Because of Christ, we can “with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Heb. 4:14- 16)
When I was vacationing in Arizona with my family recently, we went for a beautiful hike through the desert. The landscape was full of cacti, mesquite trees, and desert shrubs that were completely foreign to our Canadian terrain. And as we reached the summit of a hill, I saw on the horizon, not one, but two eagles gliding through the air.
I have to admit, I’ve never noticed how an eagle flew before that moment, but on this day, I sat there and observed. I noticed the ease with which these large birds seemed to glide through the sky. Their wings were not flapping, they were literally gliding on the wind. There was nothing frantic about it. They were not tiring themselves out. In fact it looked restful and invigorating at the same time.
Isaiah 40:31 came to mind. “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”
And as the truth of these words penetrated my heart, I wondered how often I unnecessarily flap my wings, tiring myself out with my self-reliance.
The Lord is the one who forgives our sins and strengthens us for ministry. The Lord makes us soar like an eagle, gliding on the wind, empowering us by the Holy Spirit.
Our perfectionist dreams for ourselves may be more flattering, but they will never amount to anything more than unfulfilled expectations and a ginormous amount of wing-flapping. Whereas God is able to do “far more abundantly” than we even know to ask or think (Ephes. 3:20).
Our glass houses are a blessing in disguise because they remind us that there was only one perfect man in the history of the world, and we are not him! Jesus was perfect for us. He took on our sin and gave us his righteousness (2 Cor. 5:21). This alone is the reason a holy God accepts us.
Pastor’s wives are not perfect, but when we put our hope in God’s grace and sufficiency for us, we are no longer slaves to the next wave of public opinion or even our own changing emotions. Sarah’s life showed a pattern of obedience and hope in God and that is why Peter said that we are her daughters if we “do good and do not fear anything that is frightening.” (1 Pet. 3:6)
Glass houses become less scary when we’re secure in God’s grace.
A version of this article titled, Grace for the Pastor’s Wife was originally posted at The Gospel Coalition Canada
Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her
This story of two sisters resonates with me. Like Martha, I like things done well. I’m not a laid back, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl. I may wish I was, but I have a deep-seated compulsion to cross my t’s and dot my i’s. I like my house clean, my meals balanced and my calendar organized. (Although I don’t accomplish this often!) Like Martha, I am frequently, as Jesus diagnosed, “anxious and troubled about many things”.
In Martha’s defence, she does have Jesus sitting in her living room. Jesus. This is not your average house guest. I imagine that Martha is not merely a resentful sibling; but she is sincerely distressed. She wants to please Jesus. She longs to be the perfect hostess, as defined by her family and culture.
Meanwhile, her beloved sister, Mary, was not helping. The text says that while Martha “was distracted with much serving” Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet” (v.39).
It’s not hard to understand Martha’s frustration when she asks, “Lord do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?” (v.40).
Martha’s Malady
Jesus’ response to Martha is neither scathing nor placating. Instead, he cuts straight to the heart of the issue with both compassion and frankness; “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”
When Jesus tells Martha that “one thing is necessary”, He doesn’t mean that food and shelter are superfluous. It was not that Mary had chosen a spiritual occupation (learning from Jesus) while Martha had chosen a carnal one (serving and hospitality). John 12 records how Jesus dined with them again, and again “Martha served” while Mary anointed Jesus feet with expensive oil. Jesus was not rebuking Martha for her role in the household—service and hospitality are Christian virtues–rather, Jesus was diagnosing a spiritual malady.
Those of us who resonate with Martha like to be able to control our environment. We trust in our own ability to make life comfortable, safe and sustainable. Jesus didn’t despise Martha’s servant heart; He loved her (Jn. 11:5). But Jesus loved Martha enough to tell her that her pursuit of perfection on earth was wrong-headed. Not only is it impossible for humans to control their circumstances with God-like ability, it’s also prideful and inherently unstable. There was a better way, and Mary had chosen it.
The Good Portion
Anyone who struggles with anxiety can tell you that it’s torturous and exhausting. Jesus’ rebuke cuts through the ropes that bind Martha to false obligations of perfection. “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”
The simplicity of Jesus direction is paradigm shifting. Martha is not the linchpin upon which all other moving pieces depend. She is a valued part, but not the centre. Martha’s problem was that she had an over-inflated view of both her ability and responsibility. She was limited by humanity, but expected her work to reflect the perfection of Divinity.
Perhaps Mary should have helped Martha, but Jesus said that Mary had chosen the “good portion”. These words bring to mind numerous Old Testament passages that speak of close communion with God as the believer’s “portion” or “inheritance” (e.g. Ps. 16:5-6, 73:26, Josh.18:7). Mary took the posture of disciple and servant. She chose close fellowship with Jesus as her priority.
The irony for Martha was that she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. meanwhile, the One who actually “upholds the universe” was sitting in her living room (Heb. 1:3)! She was tore up about food, drink and hospitality standards, while the Creator, Sustainer and Savior of humanity was sitting at her table. I can’t help feeling embarrassed for Martha when I read this passage, and yet how often do I choose to fixate on temporal things while matters of eternal value fade into the background?
We may not have Jesus at our table, but distance doesn’t make a difference. Only Jesus holds the universe together by the word of his power. He dwells in us by His Spirit (1 Jn 3:24) and strengthens us for the tasks ahead (Phil. 4:13). And yes, this is good news for the Marthas among us.
For those of us who resonate with Martha’s control-anxiety, we need to constantly choose the better portion; we must prioritize time at Jesus’ feet. We may have emails to send, people to feed and responsibilities to fulfill. But when we choose fellowship with God first, we acknowledged that He is the centre of our universe. He is the linchpin that holds it all together.
When the stuff of life pulls us in twenty different directions, the good news is this: only one thing is necessary. The rest is transient. Like Martha, our role may be to serve, but when we choose to prioritize close communion with the Lord first, it allows us to relinquish our control-anxiety to Him. The day ahead may be filled with responsibilities, deadlines and scheduled events, but our hearts are not frantic. “My flesh and my heart may fail,” says the Psalmist, “but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Ps. 73:26)
No one goes through life without worry. For some of us, anxiety feels like a stray dog, always following us around, or like steam bursting out of a boiling kettle. The feelings are strong, quick to surface and not easily contained.
The Anxiety and Depression Association of America (ADAA) reports that anxiety disorders affect 18 percent of the adult population, and some say that Millennials are the most anxious generation of all. With endless decisions and a wide open future, it is no wonder that young adults are feeling the pressure.
Not all anxiety is the same. Some anxiety is a God-given aid to help us cope with difficult circumstances. For example, a stress response may help us do well on a test or run away from a wild animal. But other kinds of anxiety are destructive and suffocating. They suck the joy out of life and negatively impact our work and relationships.
It’s not surprising that we struggle with anxiety when we consider how frail and limited our lives actually are. An unwelcome turn of events or a loved one’s death is all it takes to remind us of what it means to be human.
Brian Munnings, director of Toronto Biblical Counseling, told me that “most worry can be significantly helped by a good friend or a willingness to cry out to the Lord and seek him in His Word,” but when anxiety becomes debilitating, Munnings recommends you seek professional help.
Meanwhile, the Bible has more to say about anxiety than most people realize. God’s people have been struggling with anxiety since the beginning of time. If worry is wrecking your life, here are four spiritual truths to fight back with.
God Understands You
In moments of anxiety, God seems distant. We may imagine that He takes an occasional cursory glance in our direction, but in these moments, our imagination is wrong. God’s Word tells us that “the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him” (Ps. 33:18).
My pastor once told me that God knows me better than I know myself. And although it may be hard to believe that someone could know you better than you do, this is the picture that God’s Word paints.
Do you know the exact number of hairs on your head? God does (Matt. 10:30). He knows the exact number of your days. He knows your words before you speak them. He discerns your thoughts from afar. He saw you when you were being knit together in your mother’s womb. He actually formed your inward parts (Psalm 139).
There is nothing about your situation or the inner workings of your heart that God does not understand. You may be a tangle of anxious emotions, but He sees clearly what you need. He made you with your unique temperament, and He placed you in your mother’s womb to be born into your family at this particular time. And He has plans for you in your unique circumstances.
Anxiety can make us feel isolated, misunderstood and hopeless, but you are not alone. God understands you.
God Is Greater Than Your Emotions
Everyone loves an authentic, emotionally-aware person, but our culture tends to elevate a person’s feelings above every other marker of truth. Movies and novels portray strong, authentic emotions as ultimate, and Instagram feeds are filled with quotes encouraging us to follow our hearts.
But what if our emotions tend toward anxiety? Our culture of supposed authenticity makes us a victim to our own emotions. By contrast, the Bible tells us that our emotions can deceive us (Jer. 17:9) and that Jesus himself is the Truth (John 14:6).
This is remarkably liberating for those of us who struggle with anxiety because we can acknowledge our anxious feelings without putting too much stock in them. 1 John 3:20 says, “God is greater than our heart.” In other words, God’s will holds more weight than our feelings do.
Welsh preacher and medical doctor Martyn Lloyd-Jones advised that we talk to ourselves more than listen to ourselves. In his book Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure, he wrote, “Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?”
His advice for spiritually depressed people can easily be applied to an anxious heart. When anxiety plagues us, we must tell ourselves that God is greater than our anxiety. Just because we feel anxious does not mean that we are any less secure in God’s care. God is not limited like we are. He works all things together for the good of His children (Rom. 8:28).
Jesus Has Secured Your Future
In the midst of stressful circumstances, heaven may seem like unreality. But God’s people have a long history of looking to future promises to help them with present difficulties. Even Jesus endured the cross because of “the joy that was set before him” (Heb. 12:2).
It’s stressful when life doesn’t go according to plan. Difficult circumstances stretch us and push us into uncomfortable places, but trials are a God-given means to prepare us for “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Cor. 4:17).
Nowhere in Scripture are Christians promised to have ease and abundance in this lifetime. In fact, according to the Apostle Paul not many Christians are rich, powerful, or “wise according to worldly standards,” but rather “those who desire to be rich fall into temptation” (1 Cor. 1:26, 1 Tim. 6:9).
If you are a Christian, it is much more likely that God has plans to refine you through trials because they grow your character and faith (Rom. 5:4).
If you are constantly struggling with anxiety, you may want to check whether you are holding your earthly plans with a death grip. Jesus is able “to save forever those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them” (Heb. 7:25). It’s OK to open your hand. If you trust in Jesus, He holds your future secure forever.
God Establishes Your Steps
We will never be free from sinful anxiety until we admit that God is on the throne, not us.
Our life is a stewardship from God. He has given us intelligence, talents, opportunity, and a unique personality. Our job is to take the gifts and responsibilities He’s entrusted us with and use them for His glory.
This is very different than creating your own destiny. A person who takes the entire weight of their life upon their shoulders is bound to feel anxious. There are far too many uncontrollable factors in the world around us.
Proverbs 16:9 says, “The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps.” We can plan for the future, but only God is sovereign over it. We have no power over world dictators, incurable illness and natural disasters. We can’t even control the weather! It is no wonder that we feel stressed when we erase God from the equation.
We may imagine that God doesn’t care about our life as much as we do, but the truth is that the sovereign King of the universe counts each of our “tossings” (also translated “sorrows” or “wanderings”) and puts our “tears in a bottle” (Ps. 56:8). It is impossible for us to control our destiny, but we can trust God to establish our steps.
The hard work of overcoming anxiety happens as we grow in our relationship with God. Everything else is more like a Band-Aid on a gaping wound. You may gain temporary relief from mindfulness techniques or adult coloring books, but they are a distraction, not a cure.
Anxiety can be good if it drives us to Jesus. Instead of believing the lie that we are autonomous, we can learn what it is to walk humbly in dependence on God. After all, “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor. 4:7).
My Instagram feed is filled with people posting their “ten-year challenge” photos. I like comparing the photos as much as the next person. While most of this comparison may be an exercise in vanity, there is something inspiring about seeing someone who looks better than they did a decade ago. You can imagine the effort and self-discipline it took for them to make progress in their health and wellbeing.
When I look in the mirror, I’m aware that I won’t win any 10-year challenge. The lines around my eyes are deeper and my body is weaker. But to be honest, it doesn’t bother me much. Looking back on the last decade, the deepest, most ubiquitous emotion I feel is thankfulness to God for all He has done for me.
I recently Kondo’d my closet, clearing clutter and reviving treasures that haven’t seen the light of day in years. I found an old journal from nearly a decade past. For days, I couldn’t bear to open it. The raw, vulnerable words of my angsty twenty-something self didn’t beckon me to read.
But this morning curiosity got the better of me. Who was I then? What’s changed in a decade? Turns out I’m the same person. And also not the same.
I still have my greatest hope in Jesus Christ and his redeeming work for me. I still struggle at times to “put off” my old self and “be renewed in the spirit of [my] mind”(Ephes. 4:22-24). My biggest disappointment was that I still struggle with anxiety. But by God’s grace a few things have changed.
First, I have tasted suffering and felt more resistance to my faith, and yet God has held me fast through it all. When anxiety rushes in–and it still does–I’ve got something solid to grab onto so that I’m not pulled away in its current. I’ve got another decade’s worth of love, trust and relationship with God, and because of this shared history, my sanity returns quicker and truth resonates deeper. This decade has taught me to move forward in faith despite the fear that wants to cripple me.
Second, I’m gentler with myself. This is a tricky one because I don’t mean to imply that I’m gentle with my sin. I still hold to John Owen’s oft-quoted mantra: “Be killing sin or it will be killing you.” Romans 8:13 makes it clear that we must put sin to death by the power of the Spirit, but sinful impulses don’t die in the blink of an eye. It takes a lifetime of resistance. And yet my twenty-something self held punishingly high standards for perfection in this life. Thank God that He is pleased with our best efforts, however imperfect (e.g. 1 Tim. 2:3, 1 Thess. 2:4), and he doesn’t require perfection before He can use us!
I see this John Newton quote cycle through social media every so often. Each time I see it, my scrolling finger is forced to stop because Newton’s words resonate so deeply. They express a healthy understanding of how both sin and grace inform Christian identity.
I am not what I ought to be,
I am not what I want to be,
I am not what I hope to be in another world;
but still I am not what I once used to be,
and by the grace of God I am what I am.
For those of us who feel our “ten-year challenge” photos aren’t up to Instagram standards, all is not lost. If we have grown in godly character, the deeper lines on our face are not something to mourn. We are a decade closer to who we ought to be and want to be. By God’s grace I am what I am and His grace is enough (1 Cor. 15:10, Rom. 8:1).
