The Adventure of Discipleship

TADB 134: Who is Jesus? Begotten not Made

If we misunderstand who Jesus is, we misrepresent the gospel. His divine nature is non-negotiable. The gospel stands or falls on the true identity of Christ. Do you know the difference between begotten and made?

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

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

TADB 133: The Gospel Reveals the Trinity

The Trinity isn’t a side issue. It’s the heart of the gospel. The church has fought for centuries to defend it—will we?

In today’s church, the question Jesus once asked His disciples—“Who do you say I am?”—is just as critical as it was in the first century. A recent Ligonier Ministries / Lifeway Research survey of self-identified evangelicals revealed alarming statistics:

73% believe “Jesus is the first and greatest being created by God.”
43% say “Jesus was a good teacher, but was not God.”

If these numbers are accurate, large segments of our churches are embracing a view of Christ that mirrors the ancient heresy of Arianism. This isn’t merely a theological debate—it’s a gospel issue. If we get Jesus wrong, we get the gospel wrong.

First-Century Bridges and Ditches

The gospel was no easier to accept in the first century than it is today. Paul wrote:

“Since God in His wisdom saw to it that the world would never know Him through human wisdom, He has used our foolish preaching to save those who believe. It is foolish to the Jews, who ask for signs from heaven, and it is foolish to the Greeks, who seek human wisdom.”
(1 Corinthians 1:21-22)

As Michael Green observes in 30 Years That Changed the World, Jewish and Greek cultures provided both bridges and ditches to the gospel. The Roman road system, Jewish monotheism, and the Greek translation of the Old Testament opened doors for the message of Christ. Yet there were also deep “ditches”—obstacles that made acceptance difficult.

For Jews, the stumbling block was a Messiah who claimed equality with God rather than political deliverance. For Gentiles, it was the claim that there is one God who is also three persons—a concept foreign to both Jewish and Greco-Roman thought.

The Challenge of the Trinity

The idea that God is “one in essence and three in person” has no perfect earthly parallel. Common illustrations—like water as liquid, solid, and vapor—fall short and can even mislead.

The hardest step for both Jew and Gentile was accepting the incarnation: Jesus Christ as fully God and fully man. This truth has been denied, doubted, and debated from the first century onward. And it remains one of two essential doctrines that separate authentic Christianity from counterfeits (the other being salvation by grace through Christ’s finished work, not by human merit).

The Arian Crisis and the Nicene Creed

In the fourth century, a priest named Arius taught that Jesus was created by God the Father, and thus was neither coeternal with Him nor of the same substance. This heresy caused widespread confusion.

In 325 AD, Emperor Constantine convened the Council of Nicaea to bring unity and clarity. The resulting Nicene Creed affirmed that Jesus is:

“God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, consubstantial with the Father.”

The creed also declared the full personhood and deity of the Holy Spirit. Later councils, and the Athanasian Creed in the 6th century, further safeguarded the doctrine of the Trinity. Historically, baptism required affirmation of these truths.

Why This Still Matters

For nearly 1,800 years, mainstream Catholicism and Protestantism have stood united on the Trinity and Christ’s divinity. While we expect groups like Islam, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and Mormonism to reject these truths, the growing denial within evangelical circles is deeply troubling.

If today’s church allows confusion about Jesus’ identity to spread unchecked, we risk repeating history—not in defending the truth, but in tolerating heresy. The pressing question for every generation remains:

“Who do you say I am?”

Get this wrong, and you lose the gospel.

If Jesus is not fully God and fully man, then the gospel collapses. The church of every age must contend for this truth—not just in creeds and history books, but in the hearts and minds of its people today.

Looking Ahead

To guard the gospel, we must clarify what Scripture means by “Son of God” and “begotten.” These terms are key to understanding Jesus’ unique relationship to the Father and His eternal nature. We will explore these in the next article.

For Discussion

Why do you think so many self-identified evangelicals today misunderstand or deny the full divinity of Jesus?
What are the dangers of seeing Jesus as only a created being or just a moral teacher?
Why is the doctrine of the Trinity essential to the gospel and not just a secondary issue?
How would you personally answer Jesus’ question: “Who do you say I am?”—and why is that answer central to your faith?
How can we explain the Trinity and the incarnation to others in ways that are faithful yet understandable?

TADB 132: The Battle for Gospel Clarity

The gospel has survived for 2,000 years — but only because each generation guarded it. From Paul’s defense in Corinth to Luther’s reformation, the battle hasn’t changed: resist additions, subtractions, and distortions. Are we guarding it well today?

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

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?

TADB 131: Protecting the Treasure

Like the Dead Sea Scrolls, the gospel is a priceless treasure that must be preserved intact—protected from any additions that could alter its truth.

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.

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

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

TADB 130: The God We Present Shapes the Gospel We Share

A distorted view of God distorts the gospel. Discover why the early church clarified God’s nature, how today’s culture misrepresents Him, and why gospel conversations must begin with “What is your picture of God?”

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?

TADB 129: Our View of God Matters

Our view of God shapes everything about us. Drawing from A.W. Tozer’s The Knowledge of the Holy and the Acts 1:8 strategy, this article explores how the early church shared the gospel of the kingdom across cultures—from Peter and Cornelius to Paul in Athens. Discover why understanding a person’s concept of God is essential before presenting the gospel, and how Paul’s Areopagus sermon shows a model for engaging different worldviews in evangelism today.

“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:

Creator of all – Maker of heaven and earth, distinct from creation.
Sovereign Lord – Master over all nations and history.
Not confined to temples – Beyond human-made structures.
Self-sufficient – Needs nothing from humans.
Giver of life – Source of breath and all good things.
Origin of humanity – From one man, every nation was made.
Near yet invisible – Wants to be known, not distant.
Totally other – Cannot be reduced to idols.
Righteous Judge – Will hold all accountable.
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

How has your own “picture of God” been shaped by family, culture, or personal experience?
What happens when people try to receive Jesus without first understanding who God truly is?
How did Peter’s message at Pentecost differ from Paul’s message in Athens?
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?

TADB 128: The Gospel of the Risen King

Rediscover the Gospel of the Risen King and guard it from distortions to fuel real discipleship and transformation in a post-Christian age.

As ambassadors of Christ and his kingdom, we need to reexamine our understanding of the first-century gospel, the gospel that the church fathers vigorously protected from various counterfeits. We need to guard that same gospel against additions, subtractions and distortions. In our attempts to abbreviate and abridge the gospel, we need to see if we haven’t skewed it, especially in light of our current audience that is biblically illiterate and post-Christian.

The Gospel of the Risen King: A Journey to Rediscover the Power of the Gospel

For the past 60 years, discipleship has been the focus of my life and ministry. Over that time, I have shared my insights through this blog and my trilogy, Rethinking Discipleship. Both emerged from years of exploring, learning, teaching, and mentoring, all rooted in the conviction that making disciples is at the heart of the Great Commission. I still hold that conviction today.

My passion for discipleship stems from my connection with The Navigators, founded by Dawson Trotman during WWII. Trotman, an avid evangelist, once had an eye-opening moment when he picked up a hitchhiker who had committed to Christ weeks earlier but showed no signs of spiritual growth. Trotman realized that evangelism alone wasn’t enough—new believers needed continued discipleship.

This revelation led to Trotman’s collaboration with Billy Graham in the 1950s, helping to develop follow-up material for the thousands of new converts from Graham’s crusades. This focus on discipleship, or “follow-up,” has birthed numerous organizations and resources over the past 75 years. Yet, despite these efforts, a troubling question lingers: Why does spiritual fruit remain so rare in the church, even after decades of discipleship material and mentorship?

This question brings me to a deeper issue: Is it possible that the root cause of fruitlessness is not simply insufficient discipleship, but an incomplete understanding of the gospel itself?

Rethinking the Gospel

In recent years, as I’ve reflected on my understanding of the gospel, I’ve come to a significant realization: the gospel is more than just a doctrine to be asserted—it is a narrative to be told. Specifically, it is the narrative of Jesus Christ as the Risen King. This Gospel of the Risen King is the foundation of the Great Commission, and it is this message that must shape our discipleship efforts.

As I researched and reflected on the gospel, I found that I was not alone in questioning whether cultural distortions have impacted our understanding of this message. A.W. Tozer voiced similar concerns decades ago, suggesting that our failure to see moral transformation through the gospel may be tied to a failure in how the message is preached. Tozer lamented:

“Could it be that the failure of the gospel to effect moral change is due to a misunderstanding of the message itself? In earlier times, revival campaigns led to real, visible change—closing saloons and brothels as a direct result of the gospel. But today, that kind of transformation seems rare.” (A.W. Tozer, The Set of the Sail)

The Heart of the Gospel

The Gospel of the Risen King centers on the person and work of Jesus Christ as King, which is often missing from our modern presentations of the gospel. To put it simply, we must revisit the question: What is the gospel? This critical question must be answered clearly if we are to unleash its power and experience the fruitfulness we long for.

We must recognize that the gospel is not just a message about salvation from sin, but a proclamation of the Kingdom of God, which is inaugurated in Christ’s resurrection. The gospel transforms lives by transferring people from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of light, aligning them with Christ as King.

Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3:10—“Like a wise master builder, I laid a foundation, and another is building on it”—remind us that discipleship must be built on the right foundation. But if the gospel we preach is distorted, how can we expect to see the fruit of the Spirit in people’s lives?

The Challenges We Face

In my exploration, I’ve identified several cultural “pathogens”—ideas and assumptions that threaten the power of the gospel. These cultural influences undermine the gospel’s ability to bring true transformation. These pathogens have shifted our understanding of the gospel and distorted how we present it, weakening its impact.

One key issue is that many of us still approach discipleship with outdated assumptions about our audience. Our world has changed dramatically, and so must our methods of presenting the gospel. In some cases, small adaptations may suffice; in others, a more significant overhaul will be necessary.

A Call to Recenter the Gospel

The Gospel of the Risen King has the power to create new life and bring lasting transformation, but only if we protect it from distortion and preach it faithfully. As followers of the risen King, our mission is to guard this gospel, proclaim it, and expand God’s kingdom one life at a time. This involves not only defending the message but living it out, reflecting Christ’s image through the power of the Holy Spirit.

In the upcoming blogs, I will share more of my journey: searching the Scripture, asking hard questions, and challenging existing traditions on the Gospel of the Risen King. I am on a journey of sifting through long-held assumptions, and I invite you to join me in this quest for a deeper understanding of the gospel. As the Bereans did in Acts 17:11, we must be open-minded, searching the Scriptures daily to see if what we’re proclaiming is truly the gospel.

Moving Forward

I will explore the cultural pathogens that threaten the gospel and how we can counter them. I will also look at how our gospel presentations have evolved over time and how they can be renewed to better connect with today’s audience.

As we rediscover the Gospel of the Risen King, let us remember that it is more than a message to be heard; it is the story of Jesus as King, reigning over His kingdom, and calling us to live as His disciples.

For Discussion

1. What is the distinction between a “doctrine” of the gospel and the “narrative” of the gospel? How does understanding the gospel as a narrative affect our discipleship efforts?

2. In what ways do we see the Gospel of the Risen King being under attack today? How can we protect and preserve its true message?

3. How does the resurrection of Jesus as King change the way we understand the gospel? Why is it significant to view the gospel through the lens of the risen Christ as opposed to merely the crucified Christ?

4. What cultural pathogens (distortions or misunderstandings) do you think are most common in the presentation of the gospel today? How can we address these in our own lives and ministries?

5. How do we reconcile the fact that, despite a wealth of discipleship resources, many people still struggle with spiritual growth? What could be the missing ingredient?

TADB 127: Whose Story is it?

Discover the transformative power of living our story as part of God’s grand meta-narrative.

The book of Genesis begins God’s story with Adam and Eve, created to be vice-regents¹of the earth. Instead, they chose to be co-regents², co-opting God’s story into their story. Our default human condition is that we are writing our story. Life is about us.

The gospel invitation is not merely about forgiving sin; it’s a profound, transformative call to return home and reintegrate into God’s story. It’s a shift from living our own story, where our significance is limited, to living our story as an integral part of God’s grand meta-narrative. This shift in perspective will redefine our lives.

John’s Gospel presents a unique story from the early days of Christ’s ministry (John 2:1-11). It’s a familiar account of a Cana wedding where Jesus and a few of his disciples were guests. Mary, his mother, played a logistical role and informed Jesus when the wine ran out. Jesus, in response to her request, sent some servants to fill empty pots with water. The miracle occurred when the pots were full: the water turned into aged wine, bringing joy to the guests, confusion to the head waiter, relief to the bridegroom, and gratification to Mary.

There are several ways to interpret this story.

Jesus wants to be involved in our everyday lives. By attending the wedding and using his power to make it successful, Jesus shows that God wants to fill our lives with joy and even override the laws of nature to ensure our happiness. Jesus is the new wine of joy that never runs out.
Jesus answers prayer. Mary’s request (prayer) demonstrated faith that her son would meet her needs. She didn’t argue, plead, or manipulate when he pushed back at the timing; she confidently told the servants to do what he said and walked away. Jesus answered Mary’s prayer, and he will answer ours.

Although the above two lenses certainly have valid implications from the story, they are not the lenses that John uses. He gives his purpose in verse 11. “This beginning of His signs Jesus did in Cana of Galilee, and revealed His glory; and His disciples believed in Him” (John 2:11).

The wedding narrative tells Jesus’s story. The people in it are supporting cast, not the featured role. This story and the miracle in it gives the disciples, Mary, the servants, and us a glimpse into the nature of the One called Jesus. The guests left happy but probably ignorant of Jesus’s miracle power. Only later, as the story got out (likely from the servants who handled the water detail), would they learn of the miracle. As the story got around, people may or may not have believed the claim, but a few close followers of Jesus did. “He revealed his glory, and the disciples believed in him.”

Jesus’s revelation of his glory at the wedding in Cana was part of the larger story that he refers to in his John 17 prayer: “I glorified You on the earth by accomplishing the work which You have given Me to do…I have revealed Your name to the men whom You gave Me out of the world” (John 17:4-6).

The narrative of The Exodus is another classic example of “Whose story is it?” Pharoah thought it was about him. The Hebrews thought it was about them. But maybe not. Between the plague of boils and hail, Moses tells Pharoah, “This is what the LORD, the God of the Hebrews, says: Let my people go, so they can worship me. If you don’t, I will send more plagues on you and your officials and your people. Then you will know that there is no one like me in all the earth. By now I could have lifted my hand and struck you and your people with a plague to wipe you off the face of the earth. But I have spared you for a purpose—to show you my power and to spread my fame throughout the earth” (Exodus 9:13-16).

The story is not about Pharoah, Egypt, Moses, the Hebrews, or freedom. It is about YHWH and the glory of his name throughout the earth; everyone and everything else is a supporting cast member. Although not believed, Moses tells Pharoah that his significance lies only in telling God’s story.

Later in the Exodus, with Joshua replacing Moses as leader, the Israelites are finally poised to enter the Promised Land. Crossing the Jordan River, they encounter the fortified city of Jericho. As the leader of Israel’s army, Joshua prepares for battle by inspecting the battle scene; suddenly, he is surprised by a warrior who stands in front of him, sword drawn, ready to fight.

Joshua challenged the man with the question, “Are you a friend or foe?” Joshua wanted to know if this warrior was an ally or part of the competition. A binary question: A or B? The warrior replied, “Neither. I am the commander of the LORD’s army (Option C!).”

Joshua wanted to know whose side this warrior was on, Israel or Jericho. The answer was that it wasn’t about either Jericho or Israel. It was about God. And with that, Joshua “fell with his face to the ground in reverence. “I am at your command,” Joshua said. “What do you want your servant to do?” The commander of the LORD’s army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did as he was told “(Joshua 5:14-15). He got back into God’s story, ready to play his part. Joshua and Moses illustrate how we can easily co-opt God’s story and make it about us even when committed to God’s mission.

Another example comes from a famous hymn I often heard growing up: “In the Garden.” The song’s lyrics are based on Jesus’ appearance to Mary Magdalene in the garden after his resurrection (John 21).

I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own. And the joy we share as we tarry there none other has ever known.

The song paints a pastoral scene of intimacy with Jesus, just Jesus and me, where he reassures me that I am loved, cared for, and part of his family.

All the above is true but not part of the resurrection story. In all four Gospel accounts of the post-resurrection scene in the garden, men (angels) and Jesus encounter both Marys, instructing them not to “tarry” but to immediately tell others that Jesus is risen and about to ascend to his Father. The story is not about making the supporting cast comfy but about making Jesus visible.

So, whose story are we telling? Discovering God in the landscapes of our lives is God’s gift to us as supporting cast members. As we lift him up and tell his story, we get the privilege of knowing him.

¹ A deputy regent, a person who acts in the place of a ruler, governor, or sovereign (Collins)

² A coregency is a situation where a monarchical position, usually held by only one person, is held by two or more (Wikipedia).

For Reflection

Can you think of other people in the biblical narrative who tried to co-opt God’s story?

Describe a time when you struggled to fit into God’s story.

TAD Blog 126: Job’s Sacred Song

As we conclude this series on discovering God in life’s landscapes, I want to reflect on the enigmatic story of Job from the Old Testament. This narrative, often considered the oldest in Scripture, likely unfolded during the time of the Patriarchs, could be called the Song of Job with the initial chapters acting as a prologue, presenting a context that Job himself would not have known.

As readers, we are given a snapshot of the cosmic conflict, a proxy war, between God and Satan that touches the life of a worshipper of YHWH. The prologue to Job’s story provides only sketchy information about the man called Job. We are not told how he became a believer in YHWH, but we are told that his faith in God was known to God and Satan, becoming a case study in the authenticity of YHWH worshippers. Satan claimed that people worship God only for his benefits; take away God’s blessings, and they will reject him like all other unbelievers.

If the book’s central teaching were about this cosmic battle, we would expect the end to return to the initial discussion, in which God now declares victory, claiming Job is the real deal and his worship authentic. God wins, Satan loses—the end. But it does not. Satan had one plan, but God had another. Job was not just the victim of a proxy battle between God and Satan. God takes Satan’s attack on Job and turns it into a blessing. Job’s sacred song is an early example of the promise in Romans 8:28-29: “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”

The book also illustrates that all suffering is not the consequence of sin or divine punishment. It raises timeless issues related to life on the resurrection side of the cross, such as suffering, justice, empathy, evil, God’s goodness, and sovereignty.

However, there is one theme that turns Job’s story into a sacred song. It is succinctly expressed in a closing verse in the last chapter. It is Job’s summary statement after his requested and long-awaited audience with God. Job’s “ah ha” moment was not regarding his pressing question of justice; it was about discovery itself.

I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You (Job 42:5).

There are several questions we could ask considering Job’s conclusion.

What did he see?
How did he see it?
Why did he see it?
What is the difference between hearing and seeing?
What was the difference in Job’s faith in chapters 1-2 and 42?

Job’s journey is not just about suffering and faith but about a deepening relationship with God through discovery. He identifies a transition from a distant understanding of God to a personal, intimate knowledge. At the onset of his trials, he boldly declares to his wife, who has already abandoned her faith, that “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I shall return there. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away. Blessed be the name of the LORD” (Job 1:21).

We could wonder if that was a popular mantra among YHWY worshippers in Job’s community. Maybe it was like the Apostle’s Creed recited in worship services today, a truth that is heard by “the hearing of the ear” but not yet seen with the eye. Job had heard about God and was a paradigm of a YHWH worshipper; otherwise, he would not have come to the attention of Satan. But likely, his knowing God was secondhand. He could say, “God is _____,” but he had yet to say, “God is my ______.”

God used the stormy landscape of suffering to change doctrine into experience. Job testifies that in the beginning, he had faith in the head, but now it was faith in the heart. Job’s song was not about the deliverance from suffering but the discovery of God in suffering. What Job sees with the eyes of his heart is the real YHWH.

Job claims that in the landscape of suffering, he gains a glimpse of the glory of God. Upon “seeing” YHWH, his response is like Isaiah’s. “I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, lofty and exalted, with the train of His robe filling the temple. …. Then I said, “Woe to me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, And I live among a people of unclean lips; For my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of armies” (Isaiah 6:1-5). I think Job’s sacred song would include the words, “You are sovereign without explanation, good without benefits.”

Job’s sacred song teaches us that God wants to be discovered intimately, not as we would at times like him to be, but as he is. Job wanted a God he could rationalize, explain, and debate with. He wanted a God like, well, like himself. Job’s song claims that we are created in God’s image, not God in ours, that there is a sovereign God of the cosmos, and it is not Job (or us).

I sense in Job’s encounter with God, a sigh of relief. He could now stop trying to manage the universe and let God do it. He did not have to explain to his friends why God does what God does. His simple faith answer to the question of “Why do good people suffer?” is, “I don’t really know.” But Job did know by firsthand experience, with the eye of his heart, that there is a God who was both transcendent and immanent, beyond explanation but not beyond knowing.

Job’s sacred song has been sung down through the millenniums of history as a witness and catalyst to the discovery of the glory of God. I think Job would say to us, “Listen to my song and then compose your own. Let your song echo down through the pages of your history to those in your relational network.”

God wants us to discover his glory, and he needs and uses a variety of landscapes to do it. As we look with the eye of faith, we can say with Job, “I have heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you.”

For Reflection

How would you describe what Job saw (Job 42:5)?
Describe a time in your life when you felt like Job.

TAD Blog 125: Composing Your Life Song

We have been developing the privilege, process, and practice of discovering God in the landscapes of our daily lives. Discovering God is based on the reality that God wants to be discovered and has revealed himself in various ways so that everyone can know firsthand the God of the universe. It sounds incredible – even too good to be true.

The Old Testament narrative tells us that humanity’s rebellion thwarted God’s desire to be known early in our historical timeline. As a result, we were exiled from God’s presence and connection to his story. Living out our own story, separated from God, we lack the spiritual capacity to know him relationally. Paul describes it as being dead.

Yet, the gospel of Jesus Christ brings us the exciting news of a way back, a way to reconnect to God’s story and rediscover our own narrative intricately woven into the grand tapestry of his. This is not just theoretical knowledge but a personal, intimate ‘knowing God’ that Paul describes as his ultimate desire. ‘More than that, I count all things to be loss, given the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord’ (Philippians 3:8).

Scripture tells us about God, but we can only know him by encountering Him in the landscapes of our daily lives. The biblical narrative introduces us to men and women who have discovered God. Their stories are not to be a vicarious experience but rather a catalyst for discovering God in our storyline.

Moses was after knowing God when he said, “Show me your glory.” Sometimes, God shows up in dramatic, hard-to-miss ways, yet at other times, he hides in plain sight where we need to use our lens of faith to see the evidence left behind. We referred to this discovery technique as a CSI (Christ Scene Investigation). (See chapter _______)

We mentioned previously that God wants us to know him and others to know him because of our testimony. David illustrated this in Psalm 40:3: “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; Many will see and fear and will trust in the LORD.”

The apostle John was even more explicit as he began his first letter. “What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the Word of Life— and the life was revealed, and we have seen and testify and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was revealed to us— what we have seen and heard we proclaim to you also, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:1-3).

To share our God discovery, we must first identify those defining moments where God shows up. When we encounter God’s presence in our storyline, we have the basis for composing what I am calling our Life Song. Our Song comprises various verses, each expressing an encounter with God in a particular landscape. The following are suggested ways to capture your Life Song so you can play (sing/share) it with others.

Steps for composing your Life Song.

Identify and describe briefly a defining moment in your past.

I use a defining moment to describe a kairos moment, a short or long period with a significant experience in your chronos (linear time) storyline.

There are two words for time in the Greek language. One is chronos time, the linear duration expressed in hours, days, and weeks: chronological time. Another is kairos time. Kairos time refers to a moment, season, or opportune time. Kairos time is not concerned with the length of time but with the significance of the time. While chronos is quantitative, kairos has a qualitative meaning (See TAD Blog 91). Our life stories are comprised of defining (kairos) moments of various intensity and duration

How did he meet your needs?
Who was involved?
What was accomplished?
You may need your CSI lens of faith to see the evidence of God’s presence. Often, God shows up dressed in ordinary street clothes. (Remember the disciples on the road to Emmaus.)

2. How did you see God show up during that time?

Since God has promised to be with us wherever we go, the question is not whether God showed up, but how he did, and did we recognize him?

In Romans 1, Paul describes the devastating moral slide on those who fail to recognize the nature of God when he shows up in creation. Moses warned the Hebrew people that they would take credit for God’s blessing if they did not recognize and remember the touch of God (Deuteronomy 8).

3. What character trait of God was the most evident: faithfulness, sovereignty, goodness, etc.?

4. How would you finish the statement, God was my ________?

5. Ascribe a name to God that would identify what he did.

A name already used in Scripture.
A name not found in Scripture but is yet descriptive. (David calls God his Rock, Shelter, Banner, and Shepherd in the Psalms.)

6. Compose this verse of your song.

Write out your narrative using #1-5 above.

Psalm 40:1-3 is a highly abbreviated Song from David. “I waited patiently for the LORD, And He reached down to me and heard my cry. He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the mud, And He set my feet on a rock, making my footsteps firm.”

7. Share your song with a friend or family member. You can start by saying, “Did I ever tell you about a time in my life when God showed up in a significant way?” “One generation shall praise Your works to another and shall declare Your mighty acts” (Psalm 145:4).

8. Can a visual marker help you remember this encounter with God?

9. Expand your Life Song by dividing your life into decades. Identify at least one defining moment in each one. Do steps 1-5 above with each one.

Review

God is writing your story into his.
Your Life Song is the collection of defining moments (verses) when God showed up in a significant way.
Your life song is your spiritual heritage you need to pass on to the next generation.

It is ultimately about God, not us. Our Life Song brings God glory as it lifts him up. When we share it, we are saying God showed up in my life, and he will in yours if you look for him.

For Reflection

Identify one defining moment following steps 1-4.
Share it with someone.