Category: the Gospel

The stage grew quiet. The curtain had dropped—but not for long. Heaven leaned in. Hell grew cautious. And then, just as suddenly, the drama continued.

For thirty years, the Creator of the universe lived in obscurity. No spotlight. No fanfare. Just Jesus of Nazareth—learning the carpenter’s trade, sweating under the sun, collecting splinters in His hands and calluses on His feet. God Himself was walking in the dust, and few noticed.

But everything was about to change.

The Messiah Has Come

Christ—the Greek word for Messiah—wasn’t Jesus’ last name. It was a title, one He lived into through His words and actions. Everything about Him—His teaching, His miracles, His compassion—pointed to the claim that He was the long-awaited Messiah.

For centuries, the Jewish people had been waiting for this figure. The prophets spoke of His coming. Families whispered with hope: “Maybe the Messiah will arrive in our lifetime.” They pictured a deliverer like King David (Psalm 2)—a warrior-king who would overthrow their oppressors, free them from slavery, and put Israel back on the map as a global power.

So when John the Baptist burst onto the scene, people couldn’t help but ask: “Are you the one?” John was quick to set the record straight: “I’m not the Light—I’ve just come to introduce Him.”

Not long after, Andrew met Jesus. Excited, he ran to his brother Peter and said, “We’ve found the Messiah!” And in a quiet conversation with a Samaritan woman in Sychar, Jesus didn’t leave her guessing. When she mentioned the coming Messiah, He simply replied, “I am he.”

The question was no longer if the Messiah had come. The real question was: what kind of Messiah would He be?

The Servant Steps Forward

The prophet Isaiah had described Him as the Suffering Servant—not a warrior king or political ruler, but a servant.

He arrived without armies or parades. He carried no sword, wore no crown. Instead, He came in humility:

“For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.” — Mark 10:45

Paul later marveled at this reality:

“Though he was in the form of God, he did not consider equality with God something to cling to. Instead, he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant…” — Philippians 2:6–7

The Creator of galaxies chose a carpenter’s bench. Omnipotence grew weary and sweated beneath the sun. Grace wore sandals.

The Kingdom Among Us

“The kingdom of God is near,” Jesus announced (Mark 1:15). And wherever He went, the kingdom left footprints.

It wasn’t tied to Rome or borders or thrones. It was deeper—an eternal reality, invisible to unbelief but unmistakable to faith. His words unsettled the powerful, comforted the broken, and puzzled nearly everyone else.

He healed the sick. He welcomed the forgotten. He set the oppressed free. Demons fled at His command. Blind eyes opened. The dead rose. And the crowds whispered, “Could this be the Messiah?”

But He wasn’t the Messiah they expected. The long-awaited King came as a servant, revealing the very nature of God (Hebrews 1:1–2). When Thomas asked to see the Father, Jesus answered, “The one who has seen Me has seen the Father” (John 14:9).

The Rabbi of a New Way

Jesus not only announced the kingdom—He showed what kingdom life looks like.

On a hillside, He taught a way of living that turned human instincts upside down: the first will be last, the greatest will serve, forgiveness undeserved. His followers were to be salt and light, even when persecuted.

As Rabbi, He modeled and taught these values. His invitation was simple yet demanding: Follow Me. To walk with Him was to learn a whole new way of being human. No wonder His followers were called people of “The Way.”

Perfection in the Dust

For thirty-three years, Jesus lived in perfect obedience to His Father. Where the first Adam failed, the second Adam prevailed. Every step, every word, every choice was surrendered to His Father’s will.

He declared, “I can do nothing by myself; I only do what I see the Father doing.” And in Gethsemane, sweating drops of blood, He prayed: “Not My will, but Yours be done.”

One thief on a nearby cross said it best: “We are punished justly… but this man has done nothing wrong.” His only “crime” was being exactly who He claimed to be—the perfect Son of God.

Imagine it: The Creator of galaxies walking dusty roads. The eternal King choosing humility. Perfection enduring a sham trial.

Curtain Falls

Act 2 closes not with a crown but with a conviction. Every step in the dust was leading to the cross—where the Servant would be revealed as the Savior.

For Discussion

1. What strikes you most about the humility of Jesus in His early life and ministry?
2. Why do you think people had such mixed reactions to Jesus’ message about the kingdom of God?
3. How does seeing Jesus as both Servant and King shape your understanding of discipleship today?
4. John the Baptist called Jesus “the Lamb of God.” What does this reveal about His mission?
5. How do you see “kingdom footprints” in your own life today?

Time is one of the four dimensions of our physical world—three of space and one of time. Unlike spatial dimensions, time moves in only one direction: forward. This unidirectional flow gives time a distinct role in shaping our experience of reality. In science fiction, we may see time moving backward or being manipulated, but in the real world, time marches forward without pause or rewind.

Religions have wrestled with the nature of time for centuries. Many Eastern religions see time as cyclical, repeating endlessly in a loop.  Judaism and Christianity see time as linear, moving toward a definite conclusion—a final day when God sets everything right.

Even the ancient Greeks had two words for time:

•  Kronos – measurable time, the ticking of the clock.

•  Kairos – a meaningful, opportune moment.

Where kronos is quantitative, kairos is qualitative. A kairos moment is when time seems to stop—when something significant happens that leaves a mark far deeper than minutes or hours.

I experienced such a moment years ago, sitting with my wife on a quiet beach in Hawaii at sunset as we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. The clock may have ticked on, but time, for us, stood still. That moment didn’t just happen in time—it transcended it.

Kairos in the Life of Jesus

In the life of Jesus, recorded in the four Gospels, we see approximately 30 years of kronos time. Yet within that span are seven defining kairos moments—unequal in duration but equal in spiritual significance. These moments, I believe, form the heart of the Gospel. Think of them not just as scenes in a biography but as Acts in a divine drama: The Gospel of the Risen King.

The Gospels weren’t written to be reduced to a single verse. They are full, rich portraits of Jesus. Matthew wrote 28 chapters, Mark 16, Luke 24, and John 21—all so we wouldn’t forget or distort the story.

Within their pages, we find seven defining kairos moments—each essential to understanding who Jesus is and what He came to do:

Prelude

1. Incarnation
2. Declaration
3. Crucifixion
4. Resurrection
5. Ascension
6. Coronation
7. Examination

Each moment is critical.  Take one away, and the picture is incomplete. Put them together, and you see the full “in Him” we are called to believe (John 3:16).  Together, they form the amazing epic cosmic story we are invited into.

Act 1:  The Incarnation– Eternity Takes a Breath

It began quietly, not with thunder or spectacle, but with a silent breath.

The curtain of eternity lifted in a backwater village called Bethlehem. A teenage girl — no royalty, no riches — cradled a newborn, her arms trembling with wonder. Her name was Mary. Awed, confused, humbled — and yet, somehow, willing. She had agreed to play her part in the greatest story the world would ever know, though she could scarcely comprehend it.

This was no ordinary child. This was the eternal Son stepping into time — kairos erupting into kronos. In a world that counts moments in hours and years, this moment defied counting. Time didn’t just pass; it stood still.

Only a handful of witnesses were present at the start. A group of shepherds stumbled into the scene, still smelling of sheep and startled by angelic choirs. A band of scientists from the East, following a strange star, arrived later with questions and gifts. And somewhere in a palace in Jerusalem, a paranoid king began to feel his throne tremble.

But the real audience, invisible to earthly eyes, was heavenly. Angels watched in hushed awe as the Creator entered creation. Eternity became an embryo. Glory hid in shadows. Perfection grew vulnerable. Infinity slipped quietly into the fragile frame of a baby, wrapped in rags, crying in the night.

Eternity Enters Time

John would later write, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory…” And Paul would explain, “In Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body.” But in that moment, it was simply a mother watching her son breathe for the first time, and perhaps whispering his name.

Think about that for a moment: eternity entered time. The Creator became part of His creation. Infinity squeezed into an infant.

Jesus. A common name, really: the Hebrew Yeshua (salvation). Yet in that name was the mystery of divine intention. This child was not beginning his life; he was entering ours.

And he knew it. Years later, he would tell his followers, “I came from the Father and have come into the world; I am leaving the world again and going to the Father.” He spoke with the confidence of one who remembered eternity.

The paradox remained, and still remains: how could he be fully God and fully man? The early church, wrestling with this holy tension, declared him one person with two natures — indivisible, unconfused, inseparable.

As the first Act draws to a close, the star fades. The visitors slip away. Herod lashes out in fear. And under cover of night, Mary and Joseph flee with the child, crossing a harsh desert to Egypt. God, once enthroned in heaven, now rides silently on a donkey, a refugee in a foreign land.

The King has come

But not like any king the world expected.

What’s Next?

The Incarnation is just the beginning. Six more kairos moments follow—each one pulling back the curtain a little more on who Jesus is and what He came to do. Together, they form the heart of the Gospel: not just good news, but the best news the world has ever heard.

For Discussion

The gospel demands a radically new understanding of God — one that stretches beyond human categories. Scripture reveals God as a singular plural—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The word Trinity never appears in the Bible, yet the reality is unavoidable.

With the incarnation, Jesus is presented as fully God and fully man, without compromising either. We may not fully understand this, but that doesn’t make it untrue.

The first disciples struggled to replace their preconceived ideas of the Messiah with the reality Jesus revealed. Sixty years after Christ’s ascension, John writes his Gospel to present Jesus as the one and only incarnate God-man:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God” (John 1:1–2).

The Titles of Jesus in John 1

In the first chapter of his Gospel, John gives ten titles for Jesus, each revealing His identity:

• The Word (v. 1) – The eternal, divine communication of God.
• God (v. 1) – Deity, not a lesser being.
• Light (v. 9) – The true light entering the world.
• Jesus Christ (v. 17) – The one in whom grace and truth come.
• Lamb of God (v. 29) – The sacrifice who takes away sin.
• Rabbi (v. 38) – Teacher and guide.
• Messiah (v. 41) – God’s anointed deliverer.
• Son of God (v. 49) – Unique divine Sonship.
• King of Israel (v. 49) – The promised ruler.
• Son of Man (v. 51) – A title Jesus favored, rooted in Daniel 7, pointing to His humanity and messianic role.

The Jewish concept of Messiah did not include deity. But Jesus’ claim as Son of God clearly did.

The Meaning of “Son of God” and “Only Begotten”

The Bible uses son of God in several ways:

• Humanity as God’s children (Luke 3:38).
• Israel as God’s firstborn son (Exodus 4:22–23).
• Angels as sons of God (Job 1:6; 38:7).

When applied to Jesus, however, Son of God means God the Son—equal with the Father in nature and essence.

In John 3:16, the term only begotten (or “one and only Son”) clarifies this. To “beget” is to produce one of the same kind. As C.S. Lewis illustrates in Mere Christianity:

“A man begets human babies; a beaver begets little beavers; a bird begets eggs that turn into little birds. But when you make something, you make something of a different kind.”

Humans were made in God’s image, but Jesus was begotten, sharing the same divine substance. He was not created. This is why some prefer the title God the Son—to mirror “God the Father” and “God the Spirit” and affirm the full Trinitarian reality.

Why This Matters

What people believe about Jesus is not a side issue. A recent Ligonier survey showed that 73% of those in our churches believe Jesus was created by God—a view that, in the fourth century, would have excluded someone from baptism or communion.

This confusion has real consequences. Without the biblical Jesus, there is no biblical gospel.

Case Study: The Hindu Student

Suraj Nepali, a missionary to Hindu students, shares a revealing exchange:

SN: “Do you believe in Jesus?”
HS: “Yes, I do.”
SN: “Do you believe He died for our sins?”
HS: “Yes.”
SN: “Do you believe He rose from the dead?”
HS: “Yes.”

The student affirms each point,; he sounds like a Christian—but still remains Hindu, believing in many gods. In his worldview, Jesus is simply the god for the forgiveness of sins.

This mirrors a troubling reality in Western churches: people profess belief in “Jesus” but not the Jesus of Scripture. Without clarity on His true nature, discipleship and transformation falter.

Conclusion

If we misunderstand Jesus’ nature, we misrepresent the gospel. The New Testament demands that we see Him not merely as a moral teacher, a spiritual helper, or a created being, but as God the Son—eternal, begotten, not made.

In the next article, we will explore how the gospel reveals the third Person of the Trinity: the Holy Spirit.

Discussion Questions

1. Why do you think the idea of the Trinity is hard for people to understand and accept?
2. Of the ten titles John gives Jesus in chapter 1, which one speaks to you most—and why?
3. What’s the difference between humans being “made in God’s image” and Jesus being “begotten of the Father”?
4. Why is it dangerous to think of Jesus as a created being rather than eternal God the Son?
5. How does the story of the Hindu student illustrate the importance of clarity about who Jesus really is?
6. If someone asked you, “Who is Jesus?”—how would you explain it in light of John 1?

In the previous blog, we looked at the need to guard the treasure of the gospel we have been entrusted with. We examined Paul’s example in protecting it from additions. Now, we turn to Paul’s example of guarding it from subtractions and distortions.

2.  Guarding Against Subtractions

Luke records an encounter in Ephesus that illustrates this danger:

Meanwhile, a Jew named Apollos, an eloquent speaker who knew the Scriptures well, had arrived in Ephesus from Alexandria in Egypt. He had been taught the way of the Lord, and he taught others about Jesus with an enthusiastic spirit and with accuracy. However, he knew only about John’s baptism (Acts 18:24–25, NLT).

Apollos was eloquent, but eloquence does not guarantee accuracy. He proclaimed a gospel with gaps—truths he knew well, spoken boldly, but missing key parts of the story. He was sincere, yet sincerely incomplete.

Seeing the problem, Priscilla and Aquila took him aside and “explained to him the way of God more accurately” (Acts 18:26). To his credit, Apollos was teachable. As a result, his ministry became even more effective:

He greatly helped those who had believed through grace, for he powerfully refuted the Jews in public, demonstrating by the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ (Acts 18:27–28).

This incident reminds us: when we reduce the gospel to a few bullet points to suit a soundbite culture, we risk omitting essential truths. The gospel is the full story of Jesus—His identity, His kingdom, His death, His resurrection, His return. How much of that story can we leave out and still have the gospel? Even Mark, who wrote the shortest Gospel account, would be astonished at the modern claim that the gospel can be shared in a single verse.

3. Guarding Against Distortions

Paul’s epistles were not primarily evangelistic tracts; they were letters to believers, applying the gospel to life in Christ’s kingdom. In 1 Corinthians, Paul addresses various church issues—spiritual gifts, worship practices, moral lapses—but in chapter 15 he tackles a theological distortion: the denial of the resurrection.

Some in Corinth claimed there was no resurrection for believers. Paul dismantled that argument, showing that to deny the resurrection of believers is to undermine the resurrection of Christ Himself:

If there is no resurrection of the dead, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is vain, your faith also is vain (1 Corinthians 15:13–14).

This was not a minor doctrinal debate—it was a direct threat to the gospel’s integrity. Remove the resurrection, and the gospel collapses.

The Historic Battle for Gospel Clarity

The early Church faced numerous heresies that distorted the nature of Christ—some claiming He was divine but not truly human (Docetism), others that He was human but not fully divine (Ebionism, Arianism), and still others blending pagan philosophies into Christian teaching (Gnosticism).

To protect the faith, the Church convened the Seven Ecumenical Councils. The first, the Council of Nicaea in 325, produced the Nicene Creed—a clear statement of Christ’s deity and humanity, and the foundation of what we now call the Apostles’ Creed. These creeds served as guardrails, defining the essential truths of the gospel.

Centuries later, Martin Luther waged a similar battle. Tormented by guilt over sin, he found peace only when the Book of Romans revealed salvation by grace through faith, not by human performance. Luther’s aim was not to destroy the Church but to purify the gospel from accumulated distortions—much like scraping barnacles off a ship’s hull to restore its speed and course.

Our Challenge Today

In a biblically illiterate age, we face the same temptation: to shorten, simplify, and “streamline” the gospel until it is no longer the gospel. When we say, “All you need to know is that Christ died for your sins and rose again”—and leave out His identity, His kingdom, His call to follow—we are not abbreviating the gospel. We are truncating it.

We must remember:

• It is not an American gospel.
• It is not an evangelical subculture gospel.
• It is the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ and His kingdom—unchanged, regardless of the audience.

Like Paul, like the early church fathers, and like Luther, we must be guardians of the treasure in our generation—protecting it from additions, subtractions, and distortions.

For Discussion

1. What dangers arise when we reduce the gospel to a few soundbites for the sake of cultural convenience?

2. How much of the gospel story (Jesus’ identity, kingdom, death, resurrection, return) can be left out before it stops being the gospel?

3. How do the early church councils and creeds help us today in protecting gospel truth?

4. In what ways are we tempted today to abbreviate or streamline the gospel until it loses its power?

5. What is the difference between making the gospel clear and making it simplistic?

It was 1947 in the barren Judean hills near the Dead Sea. Two Bedouin shepherds roamed the rocky slopes, searching for goats that had strayed from the herd. The sun beat down. The air was still. Then one of them spotted a narrow opening in the cliffs. Perhaps the animals had taken shelter there.

Bending down, he tossed a rock inside. Instead of a bleating goat, the air was filled with the sharp crack of breaking pottery. The sound was strange—almost eerie—and it would one day be heard around the world.

Inside the dark cave stood several clay jars. Some lay shattered; others remained sealed. Expecting treasure, the shepherds opened them, only to find old parchment scrolls wrapped in linen, their surfaces blackened with age. Disappointed, they sold the scrolls to an antiquities dealer. Eventually, the manuscripts reached a monastery in Jerusalem, where they were handled casually—until someone recognized their true value.

These were the oldest surviving manuscripts of the Jewish Scriptures, dating back to around 200 BC. Over the next decade, more caves would be discovered, yielding fragments from over 900 manuscripts.

By the early 1990s, the Israel Antiquities Authority established a dedicated conservation lab to preserve these fragile treasures. What had once been dismissed as worthless was revealed to be one of the most valuable archaeological finds in history—worthy of reverence and protection.

The gospel is like that. It is a priceless treasure entrusted to each generation—not only to proclaim, but also to guard, preserve, and pass on intact to those who come after us.

Paul: Preacher and Protector

The Apostle Paul was not only a herald of the gospel but also its guardian. He knew the message could be distorted—by additions, subtractions, or outright alterations—and warned Timothy to protect it:

Guard, through the Holy Spirit who dwells in us, the treasure which has been entrusted to you.
— 2 Timothy 1:14 (see also 1 Timothy 6:20)

In this article, we’ll examine the first danger Paul identified: additions to the gospel.

1. Guarding Against Additions

After their first missionary journey, Paul and Barnabas returned to Antioch, where the gospel had taken root among Jews and Gentiles alike. But trouble soon arrived in the form of certain Jewish believers from Jerusalem, who insisted that circumcision was necessary for salvation.

Adding circumcision meant adding works to faith and merit to Christ’s righteousness. In Luke’s understated words, Paul and Barnabas had “no small dissension” with them (Acts 15:2). In modern terms—Paul was livid.    

To settle the matter, the Antioch church sent a delegation, including Paul and Barnabas, to Jerusalem to consult the apostles and elders. The issue was clear: if the gospel was to cross cultural boundaries, it had to be free from the weight of religious tradition and cultural baggage.

When the leaders gathered, Paul testified how God had worked among the Gentiles without requiring circumcision. Peter concluded:

“But we believe that we are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, in the same way as they also are.” — Acts 15:11

Verdict: circumcision is not essential to the gospel. Leave it out.

Armed with a letter from Jerusalem, the delegation returned to Antioch with clarity. But the danger wasn’t gone. In Galatia, Paul faced the same problem—Jewish believers trying to elevate law-keeping into a mark of “higher” spirituality. Paul’s response was sharp:

I am amazed that you are so quickly deserting Him who called you by the grace of Christ, for a different gospel; which is really not another… (Galatians 1:6–7)

Peter’s error in separating from Gentile believers gave Paul the opportunity to reaffirm the heart of the gospel.

Modern Additions

We face the same temptation today—to “add a little something” to the simple call of the gospel. Over time, small cultural additions can become entrenched traditions that subtly alter the message.

One example is the phrase, “Invite Jesus into your heart” as the response to the gospel. It’s well-meaning, but it’s never found in Scripture. Likely drawn from a misreading of Revelation 3:20, it was popularized through Holman Hunt’s 1853 painting The Light of the World. This image of Jesus knocking on a door became a standard evangelistic illustration in sermons, hospitals, and homes.

The shift, though subtle, is significant: from God’s invitation for us to enter His kingdom, to us inviting Him into our personal kingdom. It feeds the very self-focus the gospel came to transform.

Guard the Treasure

Just as the Dead Sea Scrolls had to be handled with care to preserve their original form, so the gospel must be safeguarded against human alterations. Additions—no matter how small—risk obscuring the glory of grace with the dust of our own traditions.

In every generation, the call is the same: proclaim the gospel faithfully, guard it diligently, and pass it on unaltered.

For Discussion

1. Why was Paul so passionate about guarding the gospel against additions like circumcision?
2. How does Paul’s confrontation with Peter in Galatians highlight the seriousness of preserving the gospel’s purity?
3. Can you think of modern examples where well-meaning traditions or phrases have subtly altered the gospel message?
4. What is the difference between inviting Jesus into our lives and responding to His invitation to enter His kingdom?
5. What additions or distortions to the gospel have you encountered in your own Christian experience?

What comes to mind when you think about God?  Your answer will shape how you live, how you view yourself, and how you respond to the gospel. It is not a small matter. The early church knew this well—and so should we.

From Acts to the Creeds: Clarifying God’s Nature

The book of Acts shows the apostles adapting their message for audiences with very different pictures of God. They knew that unless God’s nature was presented clearly, the gospel could be misunderstood.

In the first centuries of the church, this same need for clarity led to the creeds. While much of their focus was on affirming Jesus as both God and man, they began with an uncompromising statement about God the Father:

“I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.” — Nicene Creed

The implication was clear: if we are wrong about God, we will be wrong about the gospel.

The Changing Picture of God in Our Culture

For many years, gospel conversations in America assumed a shared starting point—most people held a Catholic/Protestant view of God as Creator, holy, sovereign, and judge. The only missing piece, in many cases, was the personal love of God.

That is no longer the case.

• Pew Research Center reports that absolute certainty in God’s existence has declined sharply.
• American Worldview Inventory reveals that only 6% of U.S. adults have a biblical worldview—and Americans are now more confident in Satan’s existence than in God’s.
• Only half of the nation accepts the biblical picture of God as Creator, sovereign, omnipotent, omniscient, and perfectly just.

Even more telling: 71% of Americans believe God loves them unconditionally—often with a sentimental “Santa Claus” image—but many reject His holiness, justice, and authority.

As George Barna notes, “It’s no wonder that more than nine out of ten Americans lack a biblical worldview given that people’s fundamental understanding of the nature and existence of God is flawed.”

Why Our Picture of God Matters for the Gospel

Our picture of God is the starting point for understanding the gospel. If we add Jesus to a distorted view of God, we produce a distorted faith. If God is a cosmic genie, then the gospel becomes about self-fulfillment, not repentance, kingdom transfer, and new creation.

I learned this decades ago while sharing “The Bridge” illustration. I would draw two cliffs—God and Man—and ask people to describe God. Their answers were usually orthodox: Creator, holy, sovereign, and just. This provided the perfect opening to add God’s love to the picture and introduce Jesus.

Today’s answers are different. God is seen as loving but rarely as Creator, holy, sovereign, or just. Without these truths, the gospel loses its context and urgency.

A Biblical Starting Point

Before someone can grasp the good news of Jesus, they must first meet the God who is its source. The Old Testament gives us essential truths about Him:

• There is one God (Deut. 6:4; Isa. 46:9).
• God is eternal—self-existent, without beginning (Gen. 1:1).
• God is the creator of all things seen and unseen (Gen. 1:1; Isa. 45:18).
• God is relational—seeking fellowship with His creation (Gen. 3:8).
• God is sovereign—the owner and ruler of all He has made (Isa. 40:21–26).
• God is holy—morally pure, completely separate from evil (Isa. 6:1–5).
• God is just—the perfect judge of righteousness (Isa. 61:8).
• God is loving—kind, merciful, and compassionate (Psalm 136; Isa. 63:7–8).

These truths shape the way we present the gospel. Without them, Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection can be reduced to a vague act of kindness rather than the decisive rescue mission of the Creator-King.

Helping People Take the First Step

Dr. James Engel’s “Scale of Spiritual Decision” begins at stage -8: discovering that God exists and learning who He is. From there, people progress toward understanding and embracing the gospel. Our task is not to rush them to the cross without first introducing them to the God of the cross.

So before we explain what Jesus has done, perhaps the most important question we can ask is:

“What is your picture of God?”

Because, as A.W. Tozer warned, “The gravest question before the Church is always God Himself.”

For Discussion

1.  How do Old Testament truths about God (Creator, sovereign, holy, just, loving) prepare the way for understanding the gospel?

2.  What differences do you see between how past generations in America viewed God and how people view Him today?

3.  Why do you think so many Americans believe in God’s love but reject His holiness and justice?

4.  What questions could you ask in a conversation that might surface someone’s unconscious assumptions about God?

5.  If you had to summarize your own “picture of God” in three words, what would they be—and why?

“What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us… we tend, by a secret law of the soul, to move toward our mental image of God.” – A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy

Tozer’s insight is more than a devotional thought—it’s a missional necessity. Every person carries an internal image of God, whether accurate or distorted, and this image shapes how they respond to the gospel. If we want to proclaim the gospel of the risen King effectively, we must first address the hearer’s concept of God.

The Unconscious Picture of God

Each of us has a default picture—often a caricature—of God lodged deep in our unconscious mind.  It is rarely the result of careful study; rather, it is formed by anecdotal experiences, influential figures, cultural messages, and personal assumptions. Without correction by biblical revelation, these views remain flawed. When we ask, “What is God like?” we are touching the foundation of gospel proclamation. If that foundation is wrong, the structure of the gospel will not stand.

The Acts 1:8 Expansion Pattern

After His resurrection, Jesus told His disciples to wait for the Holy Spirit, then to be His witnesses: “In Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth” (Acts 1:8).

This was not only a geographical expansion—it was also a worldview expansion. As the gospel moved outward, the apostles encountered audiences with increasingly different views of God.

1. Jerusalem – Shared View of God

At Pentecost, Peter addressed Jews from many regions. While their customs varied, they all recognized Yahweh as revealed in the Hebrew Scriptures. Peter could proclaim Jesus directly as Messiah because the foundation of God’s nature was already in place.

2. Samaria – Partial Agreement

Philip preached in Samaria to people who worshipped Yahweh but had different cultural and religious practices. Their concept of God was close enough to make a direct connection to Jesus, yet distinct enough to require clarification.

3. Damascus – Still Within Jewish Boundaries

Paul’s first post-conversion ministry was in Damascus, speaking in synagogues to Jews. Again, he could begin with the Messiah because the audience already understood the God of the Scriptures.

4. Caesarea – God-Fearers

Peter’s meeting with Cornelius (Acts 10) marked the gospel’s first recorded entry into a Gentile setting. Cornelius was a God-fearer—a Gentile who worshipped Yahweh but had not fully adopted Jewish practices. Peter still began with Jesus because Cornelius already shared the biblical view of God.

5. Athens – A Different God Altogether

Athens was different. When Paul arrived (Acts 17), he found:

• Stoics – Believed God was the rational order in nature (pantheistic, impersonal).
• Epicureans – Believed in distant gods uninvolved in human affairs; the goal was personal tranquility.

These views had little in common with the biblical picture of God. Paul could not start with Jesus as Messiah; first, he had to reframe who God is.

Paul’s Athens Strategy

Paul began with their altar “To the Unknown God” and used it as a bridge.
He described Yahweh in terms they had never heard:

1. Creator of all – Maker of heaven and earth, distinct from creation.
2. Sovereign Lord – Master over all nations and history.
3. Not confined to temples – Beyond human-made structures.
4. Self-sufficient – Needs nothing from humans.
5. Giver of life – Source of breath and all good things.
6. Origin of humanity – From one man, every nation was made.
7. Near yet invisible – Wants to be known, not distant.
8. Totally other – Cannot be reduced to idols.
9. Righteous Judge – Will hold all accountable.
10. Appointed a Man – Jesus, validated by resurrection, will judge the world.

Only after establishing God’s nature did Paul introduce Jesus. This progression gave the gospel a foundation that made sense to their worldview.

The Missional Principle

When the audience shares the biblical view of God, we can move quickly to the person and work of Jesus.  When they do not, we must start earlier—by clarifying who God is—before explaining what He has done in Christ.

Today’s “Athens”

Modern evangelism often assumes people already have a basic understanding of God. But in our post-Christian, religiously plural world, many have views of God that resemble Athens more than Jerusalem.

• Some see God as an impersonal force (New Age spirituality).
• Others see Him as distant and uninvolved (secular deism).
• Many see Him as a projection of personal preference.

In such cases, we must start where they are—just as Paul did—patiently building a biblical view of God before proclaiming the risen King.

Conclusion

Paul’s example in Athens teaches us that the gospel must rest on the right foundation: the truth about God Himself. Without that foundation, the message of Jesus will be misunderstood or rejected outright.

If they do not know the God of the Bible, begin there. If they do, proclaim Christ. Always start where they are—so you can lead them to where He is.

For Discussion

1. How has your own “picture of God” been shaped by family, culture, or personal experience?
2. What happens when people try to receive Jesus without first understanding who God truly is?
3. How did Peter’s message at Pentecost differ from Paul’s message in Athens?
4. In your experience, how do people around you view God today? (Impersonal force? Distant deity? How does this affect the way we share the gospel?