Truth For Life Blog

Wallpaper: No Longer Controlled

TFL — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 05:00:00 GMT

“If you are in Christ, you are no longer controlled by the pleasures, profits, and honors of our world.”
—Alistair Begg

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In Working for Christ, There Are No Dead-End Jobs

TFL — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 05:00:01 GMT

In 1966, British rocker Ray Davies penned these lyrics to the Kinks’ song “Dead End Street”:

What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor,
No money coming in;
The rent collector’s knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second-class,
And we don’t understand
Why we should be on Dead End Street.

Davies perhaps thought that if only England could fix poverty (certainly a worthy goal), then all in the country would go swimmingly. The problem is, for men and women of any and every nation, our true predicament—spiritual poverty—is classless. One can climb the ladder of economic success and still find oneself asking, “What am I living for?”

The apostle Paul had an answer to that question: “To me to live is Christ” (Phil. 1:21). Life—the whole gamut, “facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need” (Phil. 4:12)—may have true, eternal purpose and hope only through faith in Jesus, through whom and for whom all things exist (Col. 1:16). Even our best work—no matter how suited to us, no matter how remunerating—cannot give life the meaning that is found in knowing and loving the Lord Jesus Christ.

In parallel passages in both Colossians 3 and Ephesians 6, Paul encourages (of all people!) household slaves to turn to Christ for purpose in their daily work. Though the particulars he addresses are unique to the time and place in which he lived, the principles Paul lays down are relevant to every Christian who labors under someone’s authority, even today.

How We Work

To those who labor under authority, Paul first writes, “Obey in everything those who are your earthly masters” (Col. 3:22), and again, “Obey your earthly masters with fear and trembling” (Eph. 6:5). Christians, simply put, are to be obedient workers, not rebellious—and we’re to be obedient not only in matters agreeable and pleasant but also in matters that are unpleasant and disagreeable.

Of course, there are times when the demands of employers run contrary to the demands of God—and in such cases, “we must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). Paul, however, is dealing here not with the exception but with the normal course of things.

Christian employees are to be obedient employees. They should, in fact, aspire to be the best employees: the kind who work hard not only when the boss is watching, not only to win his favor—“not by way of eye-service, as people-pleasers” (Col. 3:22; cf. Eph. 6:6)—but even when no one is watching and there is no possibility of promotion. They should seek neither to benefit the most while doing the least nor to slip out unnoticed at the end of the workday. Rather, they are to keep aware that the Lord sees and values their labor, even if their bosses and coworkers don’t.

The Christian worker, in other words, is not to be like the man in the old joke who had been on the jobsite for a couple weeks when he went to the foreman. “I’ve got no shovel,” he complained. The foreman said, “Well, who cares? You’re getting paid, aren’t you?” The first man said, “Yeah, I’m getting paid, but all these other guys over here have something to lean on, and I don’t!”

Christian employees are to be obedient employees. They should, in fact, aspire to be the best employees.

To be an obedient Christian is to refuse that kind of ethic. Whether the task is menial or grand, the Christian worker is to be wholehearted, letting his or her light shine in a world of people who are simply trying to run down the clock. And we don’t live this way because our bosses deserve it, necessarily—though God may bless us with honorable supervisors if He sees fit. Even then, though, we recognize that ultimately, we serve the Lord Christ. And that revolutionizes what we do on the jobsite.

Who Do We Work For?

Christian workers are therefore to have a different motivation from the people around about them. Whether they are sweeping factory floors, running washing machines, preparing sermons, flying planes, taking temperatures, or whatever else, they’re to keep in mind what Paul said: “Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ” (Col. 3:23–24).

Whenever you find Christians who don’t give their best to their work, you have found Christians who have forgotten the one for whom they’re truly working. But when someone’s heart is stirred with the privilege of working for Christ, it fills even the most mundane tasks with purpose.

The story’s told of a little boy many years ago watching the King of England’s procession toward Buckingham Palace. He was so eager to see the King’s carriage that he fell over a man, who shouted, “What are you doing, you nuisance!” But the little boy said, “Did you see the golden lamps on the carriage? I polished those lamps!” He expressed the joy of playing a small part in the King’s grand business.

Whenever you find Christians who don’t give their best to their work, you have found Christians who have forgotten who they’re working for.

Think, then, what Paul’s words must have meant to a household slave who got kicked around, who received food and board and nothing else to speak of, who had no hope of advancement. To such a man Paul essentially says, “When you lie down tonight, remember that you have served the Lord and that you will have a reward from Him that no one on earth can give you.” Christians today may feel they have little to gain from doing their jobs well. But when they see the Lord Jesus on the last day, they will understand the significance of a job well done.

The Employer’s Own Master

Of course, it’s not just workers whom the Gospel changes. Christian employers, supervisors, and the like should also demonstrate the fruit of their faith in how they deal with their workers, understanding that they are together accountable to the same Lord: “Masters, treat your bondservants justly and fairly, knowing that you also have a Master in heaven” (Col. 4:1).

Again, we’ll be helped by thinking of what this meant in Paul’s day. The sad truth was that there were very few limitations on how masters could abuse their slaves. They could chain them, sell them, beat them, get rid of them—do virtually whatever they liked to them. Paul’s instructions, then, are striking in their contrast: “You’re a Christian master. That means you’re to provide your slaves with what is right and fair.” Why? “Because you know that you also have a Master in heaven, and you will one day have to answer to Him for how you have treated men and women made in His image.”

The Christian employer today is fenced in by societal norms and labor codes that demand a certain treatment of employees. Even so, they ought not to limit themselves to merely fulfilling the law. Paul, after all, elsewhere instructs the believers in Rome to “outdo one another in showing honor” (Rom. 12:10). Those who follow Christ should recognize that even if they hold a position of authority, they remain servants of a generous heavenly Lord, and they represent His interests in how they treat their employees and so will answer to Him.

The Horizontal and the Vertical

Paul’s primary concern in his instruction is not first of all man’s relationship with his fellows but man’s relationship with God. He tackles the issues first on the vertical plane, understanding that that is the key to the horizontal plane.

That’s why no political or economic system in the world will ever fully cut it when it comes to the workplace. Some may make a better approach than others, but ultimately, unless employees and employers together fear God, any system will eventually face breakdowns due to selfishness. It is (as Ray Davies perhaps would agree) a dead-end street. But when Christ comes to rule and reign in a heart of an individual, that individual becomes a new boss, a new employee, invested with a new purpose and a new hope.

In whatever sphere we find ourselves laboring—at home, in a cubicle, in a trade, or in a high-rise corner office—God is intently interested in how and for whom we endeavor to work. In the days ahead, whether they be full of tasks that energize and enliven us or duties that tax and test us, may we endeavor always to look first and foremost to Christ as the Master whose “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matt. 25:21, 23; cf. Luke 19:17) ought to be the prize we seek above all else.

This article was adapted from the sermons “The Christian at Work” and “Wholehearted Obedience” by Alistair Begg.

Wallpaper: Your Great Power

TFL — Mon, 20 Apr 2026 05:00:00 GMT

“We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, who is and who was, for you have taken your great power and begun to reign.”
Revelation 11:17

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A Heart Aflame for God: A Reformed Approach to Spiritual Formation

TFL — Thu, 16 Apr 2026 05:00:01 GMT

Have you ever wondered, “What’s God’s plan for me? Does He even have one?” The answer is yes! God’s plan for every believer is a lifelong transformation into the likeness of His Son.

So how does that transformation actually happen? The new book A Heart Aflame for God: A Reformed Approach to Spiritual Formation explains that many popular ideas about spiritual growth—such as legalism, formalism, and mysticism—do not align with what the Bible teaches about growing in faith. This book helpfully points readers to a biblical understanding of how God works to nurture our spiritual maturity and the essential role believers play in that process.

Drawing from the wisdom and spiritual disciplines of the Puritans and the Reformers, A Heart Aflame for God explains how practices including prayer, Scripture reading, fellowship, self-examination, meditation, and engagement with God’s natural world are routine activities believers are to embrace. Through their example, you’ll see that these disciplines aren’t burdensome obligations but the life-giving means God uses to shape believers’ hearts and facilitate spiritual growth.

A Heart Aflame for God is a refreshing reminder that faith isn’t only meant to be believed—it’s meant to be lived, loved, and intentionally pursued.

A Lesson in Excruciating Trust

TFL — Wed, 15 Apr 2026 05:00:00 GMT

In 1876, the hymn writer Edgar Stites composed a poem that caught the eye of none other than Dwight L. Moody, who asked his friend Ira Sankey to put it to music. Thus we remember it today:

Simply trusting every day,
Trusting through a stormy way;
Even when my faith is small,
Trusting Jesus, that is all.¹

This hymn is a wonderful reminder of the fact that God is trustworthy. Yet there is a challenge represented in that first word: “simply.” “Simply,” of course, does not mean easily. Actually, to trust simply is not only difficult; it is often excruciating. In all the vicissitudes of life, when the right course of action seems to be working against our good, how can we content ourselves to say (to paraphrase Psalm 27:10), “The Lord will care for me”?

This is the challenge that King Saul faced in 1 Samuel 13. As war with the Philistines loomed, prompt action seemed urgent, yet the divine command was to wait. Saul’s folly in the face of these circumstances reminds us that trusting God’s word is crucial, even when doing so seems self-defeating.

The Choice Before Saul

At the time of the events recorded in 1 Samuel 13, Saul was still a new king, fresh off of victory against the Ammonites east of the Jordan (1 Sam. 11). But now the Philistines were on their way with “thirty thousand chariots and six thousand horsemen and troops like the sand on the seashore in multitude” (1 Sam. 13:5). Saul’s army was three thousand at its greatest strength, and “there was neither sword nor spear found in the hand of any of the people with Saul and Jonathan” (v. 22).

In the face of overwhelming force and firepower, the men who followed Saul were “trembling” (v. 7) and “scattering from him” (v. 8). With his small force getting smaller by the day, Saul felt the need to take urgent action.

When Samuel had anointed Saul as king, he’d given him clear instructions about this moment: “Seven days you shall wait, until I come to you and show you what you shall do” (1 Sam. 10:8). This instruction had come along with prophecies and signs that had shown clearly that Samuel was speaking with the authority of God, as a prophet (vv. 9–13). Saul’s task, then, was simply to await the arrival of the prophet and the instruction of the Lord.

Indeed, Saul did not disregard the command, as if to say, “Well, I don’t need to do that.” He believed he did need to do it. He wanted to do it. He trusted and waited while the Philistines approached. He waited the seven days—but Samuel did not come.

So, with the time seemingly up, Saul leaned on his own understanding and took matters into his own hands: “Saul said, ‘Bring the burnt offering here to me, and the peace offerings.’ And he offered the burnt offering” (1 Sam. 13:9)—without Samuel and so against the instruction that the Lord had given.

Simple Trust Abandoned

When Samuel did arrive, in the very moment that the deed was done, Saul offered his excuse:

When I saw that the people were scattering from me, and that you did not come within the days appointed, and that the Philistines had mustered at Michmash, I said, “Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the favor of the LORD.” So I forced myself, and offered the burnt offering. (vv. 11–12)

We might imagine Saul shifting uncomfortably and essentially saying, “Well, given the circumstances…” Of course, that’s what an excuse is: a set of circumstances that seem to explain an otherwise offensive action. To be sure, there is always an excuse when we seek to disobey God’s word. There is always a set of circumstances that mitigate against simple trust. In this case, Saul had given in to them.

And so the judgment fell:

Samuel said to Saul, “You have done foolishly. You have not kept the command of the Lord your God, with which he commanded you. … Now your kingdom shall not continue. The LORD has sought out a man after his own heart, and the LORD has commanded him to be prince over his people, because you have not kept what the LORD commanded you.” (vv. 13–14)

Saul’s heart was not set on God. Rather, it was moved by fear and misplaced confidence in his own ability. God sought a heart of faith in His king—and in Saul He did not find it.

The Heart of the Matter

Someone might respond, “Wait a minute! We shouldn’t be too hard on Saul. After all, I wouldn’t call his actions foolish. It seems to me that it was the only sensible approach to take: dwindling numbers, attacking force, no-show Samuel. What else could he have done?”

And yet the book of Proverbs challenges us with these words:

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths. (Prov. 3:5–6)

In the Bible, the “heart” isn’t just an organ. It’s a metaphor for the epicenter of who and what we are. It involves our minds, our emotions, and our wills. To trust God with “all your heart” is to display a deep, settled confidence in God’s care—a confidence resting at the very core of your being, where desires, anxieties, doubts, and disappointments live.

Psalm 14 tells us, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (v. 1). The essence of folly is not dimwittedness. The essence of folly is disobedience: “You have done foolishly.” The fool is someone who lives as though God does not exist or God doesn’t matter. And what happened to Saul in this circumstance was that he finally said, “It matters more that I take this action than that I obey and trust the God who made me king and brought me safe thus far.”

Saul ought to have remembered the word the Lord had given him, simply trusting that if God said it, it was true. Gideon—after some encouragement with the fleece—trusted God and sent his men away (Judges 7:2–8). But Saul was no Gideon. He was not ready to trust as the men dwindled, to trust in the face of massive opposition, to trust when trust was excruciating.

What Shall We Do?

It’s a mistake to think that obeying God is always or even often easy. Trusting God really can be excruciating. As we consider the challenges that face us, perhaps the last thing we want to hear from the Bible is something like “Well, why don’t you ‘simply trust’?”

Yet if we will not trust God’s word, we have nothing to stand on. If we will not trust—in the face of opposition, persecution, hardship—that God will restore to us what the world takes away, why go on at all? As Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Cor. 15:19). We will run ahead and seek our own good, fight for our own salvation, and find the effort empty.

But God says, “Put your trust in Me.” Without a hope in us that Christ will carry us on and reward us in the end (1 Peter 3:15; Heb. 11:6), the suffering that attends obedience to God’s word will far outweigh any benefit we can imagine. Yet by “simply trusting every day”—even when that trust is excruciating—we can enter into all the promises and benefits of the Lord Jesus.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Saul’s Folly” by Alistair Begg.

Edgar Page Stites, “Trusting Jesus” (1876). ↩︎

Wallpaper: Cast Our Sorrows

TFL — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 05:00:00 GMT

“We cast our sorrows on the Lord who walked upon the sea of old and who makes a way for His people through the depths.”
—C. H. Spurgeon

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Do I Love Money? Eight Telltale Signs

TFL — Wed, 08 Apr 2026 05:00:00 GMT

Among the most misquoted passages of Scripture is 1 Timothy 6:10, which some may remember as reading, “Money is the root of all evil.”

It’s one thing to notice that it is not money that is the problem but actually “the love of money.” In other words, the rich are not, simply by virtue of being rich, evil. If we’re going to be faithful to the Scriptures, though, we also need to recognize that the fruit of a love for money is not all evil—as in all the evil that ever was—but “all kinds of evils.” Properly, the verse is as it reads in the ESV: “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evils.”

What Paul is expressing is that there is no kind of evil to which the love of money may not lead us if it takes hold. Some have gone as far as apostacy: They have “wandered from the faith,” and in the process “pierced themselves with many pangs.”

It is imperative, therefore, that we ask ourselves, “Am I a lover of money?”

Testing Ourselves

We can consider eight telltale signs, any of which may reveal this sin in our hearts:

First, if thoughts of money consume our days, then we love money. If we set our minds into neutral, and they start drifting toward money—how much we’ve got, how much we’re going to get, how our stocks are doing, whatever else it is—we reveal ourselves to be eager for money.

Second, if the financial success of others makes us jealous, then we love money. If we find that we resent the car, the house, the suit, the purse, the shoes that others have, we will be letting our love of money overrule our love for our neighbors.

Third, if we are tempted to define success in terms of what we have rather than who we are in Christ, then we love money. The measure of ourselves should not be based on the fact that the accounts are full, the house is big, the things are fine, and so on. It should be that Christ Jesus “loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal. 2:20).

Fourth, if we neglect our families in our pursuit of money, then we love it. Someone who loves money will be tempted to skip meals, games, and every kind of time spent together in love, not because of some real necessity but out of a sense of urgency to earn more and more. We do not serve our families by neglecting them for the sake of “providing” for them.

The measure of ourselves should not be based on the fact that the accounts are full, the house is big, the things are fine, and so on. It should be that Christ Jesus “loved me and gave himself for me.”

Fifth, if we close our eyes to the genuine needs of others, then we love money. Paul teaches that when we have abundance, we should provide for need (2 Cor. 8:13–14). If we slink away from giving, as the rich young ruler did (Matt. 19:22; Mark 10:22; Luke 18:23), we show where our heart really is (Matt. 6:21; Luke 12:34).

Sixth, if we live with the fear of losing our money—if we wake up at night and think, “What will happen to me if it’s gone?”—then we love money. “If we have food and clothing,” writes Paul, “with these we will be content” (1 Tim. 6:8). In other words, we do have a real need for some basic resources, for which we can trust God (Matt. 6:25–34; Luke 12:22–31); but we ought not to fear losing what we don’t really need.

Seventh, if we are prepared to borrow ourselves into bondage, then we love money. We can be so consumed with having certain kinds and qualities of things that we refuse to live realistically within our means. It’s one thing to need money to get the basics at the grocery store. It’s another thing entirely if you go to the grocery store in a Rolls-Royce.

Eighth and finally, when God receives our leftovers rather than our firstfruits, it’s safe to say that we love money. If money is not our god, then there should be no hindrance to handing money over to God when He asks it—particularly in supporting the work of the Gospel.

Entrusting Ourselves

Jill Briscoe writes,

Years ago I stopped looking to anyone else but God to satisfy me. I have learned to be content with such things as I have, for He has said that He will never leave me nor forsake me (see Heb. 13:5). There is no man that can love me enough, no child that can need me enough, no job that can pay me enough and no experience that can satisfy me enough. Only Jesus! The compass of my life must be set in His direction and by His direction, and then it will, like a real compass, not be affected by movement!¹

Our witness for Christ in the world depends a great deal on whether our faith in Christ really makes us different. Our whole culture is built on bodies, brains, and bucks. We want status, whether physical, intellectual, or financial—and preferably all three. But the prophet says, “Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, that he understands and knows me” (Jer. 9:23–24).

It’s one thing to need money to get the basics at the grocery store. It’s another thing entirely if you go to the grocery store in a Rolls-Royce.

We may have all these gifts. We may lack them all. The question is: Are they our masters, or do we use them to serve the Master? If we love money, repentance from the love of money will be necessary so that we can serve the Lord. In the Lord’s service, there are not the self-inflicted “pangs” Paul mentions; there is the joy His presence and the promise of His riches.

And so, if after examining ourselves we find ourselves perhaps too attached to the love of money, we can pray with the hymn writer:

Cleanse me from my sin, Lord,
Put Thy power within, Lord,
Take me as I am, Lord,
And make me all Thine own.
Keep me day by day, Lord,
Underneath Thy sway, Lord;
Make my heart Thy palace
And Thy royal throne.²

We ought to aspire to say in sincerity, “Whether I make a buck or not, whether I’m well-known or live in obscurity, whatever I do and wherever I go and whatever it costs, this is what I want you to do, Lord. This is what I want to be for you.” And the promise of God’s Word for the individual who is prepared to say that and mean it is that God will never be that person’s debtor—for there is no good thing that the Lord will withhold from those whose walk uprightly (Ps. 84:11).

This article was adapted from the sermons “Restructuring Our Finances” and “Contentment or Corruption? — Part Two” by Alistair Begg.

Jill Briscoe, Heartstrings (Wheaton: Tyndale, 1997), 33. ↩︎
R. Hudson Pope, “Cleanse Me.” ↩︎

Wallpaper: Miracle

TFL — Mon, 06 Apr 2026 04:59:59 GMT

“All true faith and all true confession of Jesus is a miracle. Every conversion is a miracle.”
—Alistair Begg

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Alistair Begg Shares Thoughts from His Recent Travel

TFL — Thu, 02 Apr 2026 04:45:00 GMT

Dear Friend,

In Shakespeare’s Hamlet (act 1, scene 5), we find this famous quote: “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Hamlet says this after encountering his father’s ghost, arguing against his friend Horatio’s skepticism.

I’ve had that quote in mind over the past few weeks—and not, I must say, as a result of encountering any ghosts! Rather, because of the invitations I accepted to visit several places, it has become clear to me that there are more things going on in the world of biblical Christianity than I previously realized. While I miss my Sunday-by-Sunday pulpit ministry, I am enjoying the privilege of seeing firsthand how God is at work across the US in the lives of so many people.

From Memphis to Manhattan to Phoenix to Lynchburg, the unfolding story is the same: Local Gospel-centered churches are engaged in evangelism and discipleship with an energetic enthusiasm that can put me to shame. The pastors of many of these churches are young (the age of my children), and in spending time with them, I am challenged, encouraged, and mindful of J.C. Ryle’s comment that God “will raise up better servants and brighter stars.” Ryle said this in response to people questioning the future of the church when he and others like him were taken away.

Looking beyond North America’s borders, I am struck by the same sense of evangelistic zeal. As a result of your commitment to the Gospel and your support of our endeavors at Truth For Life, we are in partnership with brothers and sisters in Christ in Pakistan, Brazil, Malaysia, Poland, China, the Philippines, and more.

Together, in many languages, we are saying to our friends and neighbors that we have one story to tell—one that’s vastly different from a worldview that believes there is no creator God, no absolute morality, and no ultimate truth.

Easter provides us with a unique opportunity to follow the example of the apostle Paul in addressing the intelligentsia in Athens. He was courteous and well-prepared. He understood their Stoic and Epicurean philosophies and addressed them with unmistakable clarity by explaining that God made the world and everything in it, that He is Lord of heaven and earth, and that we, His created beings, are accountable to Him. Paul did not shy away from telling his listeners that they had an appointment to meet God, because God has fixed a day on which He will judge the world in righteousness (Acts 17:31). Assurance of this, he explained, is found in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.

Luke tells us that the response of Paul’s listeners varied: Some mocked, some were open to listening again, and some believed. These are the same reactions we find when we speak with people today. Only God opens blind eyes and softens hard hearts to the truth of His Word, but we have an important role to play by inviting others to come to know Him.

Spurgeon explains the supernatural work of God in salvation as follows: “The mysterious hand of the divine Spirit dropped the living seed into a heart that He had Himself prepared for its reception.” I hope this will encourage all of us to be bold in our witness as we seek to see unbelieving people become committed followers of the Lord Jesus.

On behalf of our entire team, we wish you and your family a blessed, joyful, and Gospel-sharing Easter and extend our heartfelt gratitude for your upholding partnership in Truth For Life.

With my love in the Lord Jesus,

Alistair

Your Only Comfort: Devotions for Hope in Suffering

TFL — Wed, 01 Apr 2026 05:00:01 GMT

Nineteenth-century preacher Charles Spurgeon was known as the “Prince of Preachers” because of his powerful proclamation of the Gospel. Yet in his personal life, he wrestled with depression, chronic illness, and deep sorrow. As a result, suffering became a central theme in many of his sermons.

Your Only Comfort: Devotions for Hope in Suffering is a newly released thirty-day devotional that presents a collection of excerpts from his sermon archive that explores

why God allows suffering in the world,
why God allows faithful believers to experience prolonged periods of personal suffering,
how believers can endure trials with hope and understanding, and
the relationship between the suffering of Christ and believers’ suffering.

Spurgeon taught his congregation that suffering wasn’t an elective for the Christian; rather, following Jesus makes suffering a required course. Regardless of what season of life you’re presently in, Your Only Comfort is a must-read for every believer who will surely, at some point, experience life’s storms.

Your Only Comfort presents Spurgeon’s original language in all thirty readings, giving readers the opportunity to benefit from his powerful and profound words exactly as he preached them from the pulpit through the text.

This collection of brief devotionals offer a powerful reminder of God’s sovereignty over hardship and will point you away from what’s temporary to what’s eternal.

Request your copy when you donate to Truth For Life today, and share a copy with a friend who’s navigating difficulty.

The Savior’s Love and the Lord’s Supper

TFL — Wed, 01 Apr 2026 04:45:00 GMT

Memorably, and perhaps perplexingly, the account of the Last Supper in Luke 22 begins with a whole lot of rigmarole regarding where the Passover meal is to happen and how the disciples are to discover it. The circumstances are reminiscent of a Cold War spy novel, with signs, code phrases, and secret locations: “A man carrying a jar of water will meet you. … Tell the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says ….’” (vv. 10–11). We might wonder: Why all the subterfuge? Was Jesus acting out of fear?

A careful consideration of the situation reveals another motivation altogether: deep, abiding love. Jesus’ presence in Jerusalem had caused a spectacle—and yet on the night of the Passover, He wanted privacy so that He could spend time with His dear friends: “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (v. 15). These were His companions. He had called them by name. He had loved them (John 13:1) and called them “to be with him” (Mark 3:14). And so He took pains, as it were, to ensure that on their last night together—as He would, among other things, institute the practice of the Lord’s Supper—they would enjoy the intimacy such a sacred time deserved.

As we consider the Lord’s love for the Twelve as expressed in this scene, we may learn at least two lessons about His love for all of His disciples, across all time.

The Intensity of Love’s Connection

One lesson is simply this: Just as Jesus strongly desired for His disciples to “be with him,” so He passionately longs for intimacy with all of His followers.

In verse 15, the Greek phrase epithymia epethymēsa (“I have earnestly desired”) can be literally rendered “With desire I have desired” (KJV). It employs two forms of the same word used elsewhere for the starving Prodigal’s longing for the pig slop in Luke 15:16: “He was longing to be fed…” The same word is also used for the angels’ longing for the mystery of the Gospel in 1 Peter 1:12: “the things … into which angels long to look.” It is, in other words, an intense desire. During His last joyful moments before the cross, the Lord of the universe—the one who had calmed the raging sea, turned water into wine, and raised the dead—longed, deeply, to spend time with these humble, unimpressive, often foolish men.

Remarkably, this same Lord Jesus has pledged Himself with an intense longing to be our Savior and friend (Matt. 11:19; Luke 7:34; John 15:13–15). In His letter to the church at Laodicea, for instance, Jesus says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (Rev. 3:20). It is a picture of remarkable intimacy—the Lord entering the home of our very selves, sitting down at our table, and sharing a meal, conversation, and friendship with us.

During His last joyful moments before the cross, the Lord of the universe longed, deeply, to spend time with these humble, unimpressive, often foolish men.

If we’re honest, we can admit that Jesus is far more willing to grant us friendship than we are to seek it. We ought to ask ourselves, then: Does Jesus live with us? Have we known His companionship? Have we awakened in the morning to the realization that Jesus loves us with such an intense longing? Do we realize that in the reading of the Bible, He speaks to us, and we discover His will? That in the fellowship of His people, He builds us and teaches us? That in the singing of His praise, we discover the wonder of who He is? And that God offers all of this to us because He wants to be with us?

There’s all the difference in the world between going through the motions and connecting with the intensity of Jesus’ love. Is that a difference that marks your friendship with the Messiah?

The Clarity of Love’s Instruction

A second lesson has to do with the practice of Communion itself: As Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper, He introduced an ordinance to be observed by all believers throughout time, until His return, as a remembrance of the sacrifice He offered and the salvation He secured.

Under the old covenant, the Passover meal memorialized the tenth plague, the sparing of Israel’s firstborn, and the exodus from Egypt. This was God’s great act of salvation for Israel in the Old Testament. Centuries later, on the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus had called His coming passion His “exodus” (Luke 9:31 NLT), or “departure” in most English translations. In other words, on that fateful night, all that was anticipated and portrayed in the Passover was about to be fulfilled in Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.

Today, in certain Jewish households, when the food arrives at the Passover meal, the host will lift the unleavened bread and pronounce, “This is the bread of affliction that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are needy come and celebrate Passover.” The host will then break the bread and pass it around to everyone to eat in silence. Similarly, he will offer a number of blessings over a cup of wine.

All that was anticipated and portrayed in the Passover was about to be fulfilled in Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.

On the occasion of the Last Supper, Jesus had His own pronouncement to make: “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In other words, He was saying, “I Myself am the Passover bread, and the broken bread is My affliction on your behalf. When you do this, you should remember Me.” With the wine, too, the picture is taken up in the Lord Jesus: “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” The cup calls to mind, then, not the old covenant with Abraham, according to which God brought the people out of Egypt, but the new covenant in the Son’s blood, by which God forgives our sins, puts His law within us, and allows us to know Him (Jer. 31:31–34 ).

The instruction is clear: By His death, in His love, Jesus accomplished a new and better exodus—and if we are His friends, we ought to remember it (John 15:14). Just as the blood of the Passover lamb saved Israel from death and slavery, so the blood of Jesus sets us free from slavery to sin and death, cleansing us from the guilt and power of sin. And in doing so, it draws us into the communion with Him that He so deeply desires and secures our place with Him for eternity (John 14:3).

The Opportunity of Love’s Communion

When we observe the Communion meal in our churches out of obedience to Jesus’ command to “do this,” we have communion with the Lord Jesus, our Savior and friend. He eagerly desires to offer this meal to us.

The Lord’s Supper is not about following rules and regulations. It’s about communion with Jesus. It would be foolish to miss your child’s birthday party and say, “Well, I can be there next year. After all, it’s how I feel for her in my heart that is most important, not that I go to the party itself.” It is foolish, too, to neglect the celebration that the Lord has instituted—indeed, has commanded—out of a misplaced idea that mere faith is the most important thing.

In the Lord’s Supper, we remember the new covenant and the immense love of Christ for us. That is an occasion for solemn joy, and it is not an opportunity to be missed. With a love so intense and an instruction so clear, we ought not to neglect the opportunity to remember and commune with Him.

This article was adapted from the sermon “The Extent of His Love” by Alistair Begg.

Wallpaper: The Birthright

TFL — Mon, 30 Mar 2026 05:00:00 GMT

“This is the birthright of the child of God—that God comes and invades us by the Holy Spirit, takes up residence in our lives, and creates within us a passion for God, a love for Him.”
—ALISTAIR BEGG

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Content and Character: A Rubric for Testing the Prophecies from Our Pulpits

TFL — Wed, 25 Mar 2026 05:00:00 GMT

In 1 Thessalonians 5:19–21, we find a curious series of exhortations: “Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies, but test everything.”

What exactly did the apostle Paul mean when he urged the believers in Thessalonica not to “quench the Spirit”? And what are we supposed to do about “prophecies”? Are our churches “quenching the Spirit” when we discourage the sharing of “words from the Lord” and instead look to the steady, systematic teaching of Scripture?

J. B. Phillips’s paraphrase of the New Testament is helpful here: “Never damp the fire of the Spirit, and never despise what is spoken in the name of the Lord.” Prophecy, as Paul uses the term here, is not strictly a word of revelation that comes to a man or woman at a moment in time; it is the word of God proclaimed—in whatever context (1 Peter 4:10–11; 2 Peter 1:20).

At one time in the history of God’s people, to benefit from such prophecy required testing prophets (Deut. 18:18–22). In our time, it will mean attending to the Word of God recorded in the Scriptures and testing the preachers who proclaim it. If we are to be aflame with the Spirit, we’ll only become so by listening properly to God’s Word.

“Do Not Despise Prophecies”

While we can’t say with certainty what is the context of these statements from Paul, we can venture some educated guesses that—accurate or not—will give us an idea of the ways we can go wrong.

Perhaps, as in Corinth, there were some in Thessalonica who treated speaking in tongues as a greater gift than forthright teaching (1 Cor. 14). Such men and women would have dramatized the spectacular and diminished the mundane. If that is the case, then Paul would be saying, essentially, “I don’t want you to ignore and despise the clear teaching of God on account of these other things. Give it due honor.” In other words, we are not to be gullible, becoming so enamored with what’s novel and exciting that we ignore what is clear and plain.

On the other hand, it’s not too far a stretch to imagine that these admonitions may have been responding to a fascination with the question of the return of the Lord Jesus Christ (1 Thess. 5:1–11; 2 Thess. 2:1–2). Perhaps, as happens today, speculation ran rampant to the point of incredulity, so that reasonable people were tempted to do away with the question of Christ’s return altogether: “Oh, it’s all just conjecture and hype!” Of course, the fact that some people mistreat the Word is no excuse for despising it. We cannot become so impatient with the overly excitable that we roll our eyes at the truths from which they have launched themselves into speculation.

When God’s Word is proclaimed, we should pay attention. We should guard ourselves from distraction on the one hand and scorn on the other.

So when Paul says, “Do not despise prophecies,” whatever he meant then, what it means now is simply this: When God’s Word is proclaimed, we should pay attention. We should guard ourselves from distraction on the one hand and scorn on the other. Whatever anyone else is doing, God’s Word is God’s Word.

But if we’re to be neither gullible nor cynical when it comes to God’s Word, what alternative is left to us? Paul’s answer is direct and clear: “Test everything.” In its adjectival form, the Greek word for “test” appears in 2 Timothy 2:15, where Paul speaks to Timothy as a teacher of the Word: “Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, … rightly handling the word of truth” (emphasis added; c.f. 1 Thess. 2:4). Just as a widget in a factory gets inspected and approved before it is shipped, so we ought to test the teaching of the Word against proven standards before we take it for truth.

Tests of Content

Every test requires some sort of rubric, some set of standards against which we’re to measure the results produced by the test-taker. In the case of the proclamation of God’s Word from our churches’ pulpits, we might consider a rubric consisting first of three tests of content.

First of all, we should always test the teaching of the Scriptures against the Scriptures themselves. This is what the Bereans did: “They received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so” (Acts 17:11). We may ask: Does what is being declared here accord with the plain truth of the whole Bible? (This means we should likewise beware of those who either tell us they have something novel to teach or draw outlandish conclusions from obscure passages of Scripture removed from their context.)

Many have been roped to error through ignorance of the truth about Jesus.

Second, we should ask if the teaching accords with who Jesus is and what He has done. The cults—Mormons, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and so on—love to use the language of Scripture with respect to Jesus while denying the truth of His divine identity. “We love Jesus,” they say. “He is a son of God.” Of course, that choice of article—a rather than the—is important. Yet many have been roped to error through ignorance of the truth about Jesus.

Third, we should consider whether the teaching accords with the Gospel of God’s free and saving grace. “Even if we or an angel from heaven,” Paul says, “should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed!” (Gal. 1:8). False teachers always tell us to work our way to heaven, or else tell us that works don’t matter at all. To that we must say, “By no means!” (Rom. 6:2, 15).

Tests of Character

Beyond these three tests of content, we might add two tests of character to our rubric.

First, we ought to test whether the character of the speaker accords with the truth of the Scriptures. The central question should not, of course, be “Is this man perfect?”—for there’s only been one perfect man. A better question is “Is this person for real? Is the Gospel he preaches with his mouth steadily upheld by his own works?”

Jesus tells us, “Beware of false prophets …. You will recognize them by their fruits. … Every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit” (Matt. 7:15–18). A wicked, unrepentant heart cannot live a consistent life of spiritual fruit.

Second, we should consider the impact of teachers’ teaching on the character of their listeners. A truly prophetic message that brings God’s Word to bear upon God’s people within the climate of their day will strengthen and equip. It will encourage and comfort. It will bring conviction of sin. It will bring an awareness of God. It will be conducive to peace, love, and order.

Of course, true teaching will not always produce widespread repentance. The prophets were rejected. So was Jesus. So were the apostles. Yet even when we test a rejected preacher, we should find that he is rejected for his good word and that he taught with the aim of building up in the truth.

Holding On to Good, Avoiding Evil

In the verses that follow his admonition to “test everything,” Paul urges his readers to “hold fast what is good. Abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thess. 5:21–22). Like a discerning clerk accepting a cash payment, we need to know the true from the false. A little boy may be ecstatic when he gets his first game of Monopoly and finds that it is filled with cash. Perhaps only slowly and with great disappointment will it dawn on him that the money can only buy property on the board—and that only lasts until the game is over and the pieces are put back in the box.

When it comes to biblical teaching, we need to know the difference. As followers after Jesus, we’re to be neither roped in by the mere appearance of good nor jaded by all the bad we’ve seen. Rather, testing and approving, we are to hold on to the good and vehemently reject what is evil.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Listening to the Word of God” by Alistair Begg.

Wallpaper: Wait for the Lord

TFL — Mon, 23 Mar 2026 04:59:59 GMT

“Wait for the LORD;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the LORD!”
PSALM 27:14

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To the Unsaved Believer

TFL — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 04:59:59 GMT

Strange as it may sound, there can be such a thing as an unsaved believer. Not a few people have come to the preaching of the Word, heard the Gospel, and said, “I know that’s true.” They believe that Jesus is the person He claimed to be, that He died for sinners, and that He thus saves sinners. Nevertheless, they are not saved.

The fact is, according to the Bible, belief alone isn’t what saves a person (James 2:19). Assent to truth is not the same as trust. Someone can have all the information, can see the fruit of the Gospel in the people around them, can hear again and again the generous invitation of the Lord Jesus, and may nevertheless give Him the cold shoulder.

Very often, at least two significant barriers stand between such a person and Christ: misdirected religious energy and moral indignation.

Misdirected Religious Energy

In Romans 10:2, the apostle Paul praises the exemplary faith of his fellow Jews: “They have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge.” These men and women would have been prepared to jump up in an instant and champion the cause “For God and for country.” They would have been ready, in contemporary terms, to attend the prayer breakfast, vote for the moral candidate, donate to the right causes, and proclaim their faith on social media. They believed in God passionately—but in their hard-heartedness, they misunderstood what God had done and what He asks for. Their zeal was misinformed, and it was therefore misdirected.

Verse 3 tells us how: “Being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.” In other words, not having a grasp of God’s generous goodness, they depended on their own goodness instead—which, as Scripture makes clear, is wholly inadequate (Isa. 64:4; Rom. 3:23).

Jesus Christ died for sins to give us a righteousness that we did not and cannot have on our own. In response to that reality, we can either submit to God’s righteousness by receiving it as a free gift through faith in Jesus, or we can attempt to establish our own righteousness through good deeds and religious energy. This second route is crowded with moralistic non-Christians and professing Christians alike, because it appeals to a sense of self-reliance.

Jesus Christ died for sins to give us a righteousness that we did not and cannot have on our own.

This effort at self-made righteousness, however, is ultimately a barrier—one behind which many a well-meaning soul stands, cut off from saving faith in Jesus Christ. The well-meaning moralist may have many of the benefits and trappings of Christianity without ever having done the most essential thing: to cry out in humility, “Lord Jesus, save me!”

Moral Indignation

Whereas misdirected religious energy involves taking false comfort in our religious identity, moral indignation involves deriving security from a false sense of superiority. Those who embrace it tend to be self-righteous: “I’m thankful that I’m not like that lot. There is no question that these people need help.”

Who are “that lot”? Who are “these people”? Perhaps they may be the sort of shamelessly immoral people Paul condemns in the second half of Romans 1: “gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil” (vv. 29–30), and so on. To be sure, such sins are worth avoiding! But the self-made righteous person doesn’t see such excoriating condemnations as opportunities to reflect in humility on their own sinfulness. Instead, we can imagine them standing up and applauding: “That’s right, Paul! You tell them!”

Self-righteous people can convince themselves that they are all right with God, but they can’t hide from God the sin that is in their heart.

Of course, Paul then turns the tables: “Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judges. For in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, practice the very same things” (2:1). In other words, he says, you can’t cover up your crimes and misdemeanors by simply pointing to the failings of others. God sees through those smoke screens and holds every one of us accountable for our own deeds. Self-righteous people can convince themselves that they are all right with God, but they can’t hide from God the sin that is in their heart.

How moral is moral enough for us to approach a holy God? How deep must the commitment to religious orthodoxy be so as to secure the Lord’s “Well done” (Matt. 25:21, 23)? And if the standard by which God operates is absolute and total perfection, how in the world are we ever going to make the grade? Surely, as we consider these questions, we should see our need first and foremost for mercy and grace.

What a tragedy it is, then, when professing believers in Jesus are actually just believers in their own goodness, unable to face up to the fact of their condition before God! What a strange presumption it is to highlight the sins of other people while seeking to minimize one’s own! Handley Moule captures the problem well when he writes, “The harlot, the liar, the murderer, are short of [God’s moral glory]; but so are you. Perhaps they stand at the bottom of a mine, and you on the crest of an Alp; but you are as little able to touch the stars as they.”¹

God’s Kindness

As Paul reminded the Romans, God is slow to punish the openly immoral as well as the self-righteous because “God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance” (2:4). He gives us time to turn from sin. That is not the same as tolerating our sin. God never says, “This is okay.” He’s says, “This is all wrong. But I desire to make you right.”

This intermingling of kindness and wrath finds itself expressed perfectly in the cross of Christ. The Lord Jesus bore our punishment in His body (1 Peter 2:24). It is not that God lets us off with our sins, for then He would not be just. To the contrary, He is completely just, so sin must be punished. And that is why He meted out His wrath at Calvary.

Faith’s great function is to receive what grace offers.

“Yes,” someone says, “I believe all of that.” Very well—but did you ever call upon God for salvation? We may be drowning in the ocean, convinced that a life ring will save us. We may believe it wholeheartedly and shout, “Throw it in! Help!” But what good will it be if we won’t take hold of the ring? What good will all our frantic swimming do us as the current pushes us away? What good, indeed, is all the believing if we never abandon our own efforts at righteousness and cast ourselves onto Christ?

This is the good news: God’s grace turning away His wrath, God’s Son taking the sinner’s place, God having mercy on the undeserving so that there’s nothing left for us to contribute. Faith’s great function is to receive what grace offers. It is simply hands outstretched to take the gift which God has provided in Jesus. Faith is the enabling of my vocal cords to cry out, “Lord Jesus, save me!”

Have you prayed those words, or something like them, yet? If you have, then you can be assured that all the righteousness God requires is at your disposal in the person of His Son. And if not, then you should know that no amount of religious fervor or self-superiority will bring you lasting peace. Don’t let yourself live as an unsaved believer! As the psalmist writes, “If you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts” (Ps. 95:7–8). As long as you draw breath, it’s never too late to repent from a life of self-reliance and instead cast yourself on the loving mercy of God, who promises to bring His good work in you “to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 1:6).

This article was adapted from the sermon “A Call to the Unsaved Believer” by Alistair Begg.

Handley C. G. Moule, The Epistle to the Romans (London: Pickering & Inglis, 1861), 97. ↩︎

Wallpaper: Light Of Life

TFL — Mon, 16 Mar 2026 04:59:59 GMT

“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’”
JOHN 8:12

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Praying the Bible

TFL — Mon, 16 Mar 2026 04:30:00 GMT

Prayer can often feel intimidating—especially when our words run dry or our thoughts wander. Praying the Bible by Donald S. Whitney offers a refreshingly simple and deeply biblical solution: Let Scripture shape and fuel your prayers! Rather than treating prayer and Bible reading as separate disciplines, Whitney shows how God’s Word provides the very language and direction our prayers need, helping believers move beyond routine or repetitive requests into richer communion with God.

At the heart of the book is a practical method: reading a passage of Scripture and turning its words into personal prayer. Whether using the Psalms, the Lord’s Prayer, or other portions of the Bible, Whitney demonstrates how this approach guards us from “saying the same old things” repeatedly and keeps our prayers grounded in God’s revealed will. The result is prayer that is both God-centered and personally meaningful, shaped not by our moods but by truth.

Praying the Bible is easily adoptable whether you’re a new believer or a longtime Christian. Whitney writes with pastoral warmth and clarity, offering concrete examples that make the practice he outlines easy to begin immediately. This is a book not about mastering a technique but about cultivating a lifelong habit that will deepen your love for Scripture and foster consistency in your prayers, even during spiritually dry seasons.

If you long for a prayer life that is more focused, biblical, and joyful, Praying the Bible is an invaluable guide. By praying God’s Words back to Him, you’ll discover that prayer is not about finding the right words; it’s about responding to the God who has already spoken.

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The Closing Argument of Romans 8: God’s Love in Paul’s Grand Finale

TFL — Wed, 11 Mar 2026 05:00:00 GMT

As the apostle Paul concludes Romans 8, he offers a sort of closing argument in the trial of the Christian believer. The doubtful Christian has wondered, “Will I be able to persevere to the end?” Paul, with all the finality of Perry Mason revealing the real killer, has affirmed the believer’s acquittal, showing that God is for us and will give us the fullness of our salvation by carrying us on to completion (vv. 31–32). Though the Evil One seeks to dissuade us with reminders of guilt and suffering, Paul shows that these are immaterial to the outcome of the case (vv. 33–35).

Now, in verse 37, Paul moves to a grand finale with two great declarations: First, the Christian is not simply the winner, a “conqueror,” but is superlatively so. And second, this status through Christ is irrevocable, untouchable, on account of the faithful love of the Lord.

In Suffering, Through Christ

Having asked whether tribulation, distress, persecution, and so on have any power to separate us from Christ’s love, Paul now answers definitively in verse 37: “No, in all these things we are more than conquerors.” The Greek word translated “conquerors” here is hypernikōmen—literally “hyper-conquerors.” In other words, it’s not as if we have narrowly won the victory. In Christ, we have trounced the enemy.

Yet notice: We are not removed from battle. Rather, we are hyper-conquerors “in all these things.” Suffering is not alien to the experience of the believer in the Lord Jesus Christ; it is normal to it. Yet we triumph through it. As the singer Andraé Crouch memorably put it, “Through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to trust in Jesus.”¹

To be a hyper-conqueror, however, is not to be either a very special person or a very powerful person. No, our conquest is “through him who loved us” (v. 37). As Paul has written earlier, “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). The love through which we conquer is the love of the Lord Jesus, who has triumphed over all.

An Airtight Case

How certain is Paul about his assertion? “I am sure,” Paul says in verse 38. In the NIV, he is “convinced.” In the King James, he is “persuaded.” The case, he says, is airtight—and self-doubting Christians may leave their doubts behind.

Up to this point, and still now, the basis of Paul’s persuasion is the character of God. It all goes back to this simple argument: “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (v. 31). The revelation of all of God in Christ (John 14:9) provides the evidence that will convince the mind and heart.

When an aircraft flies in under cover of fog, the pilots’ senses will be nearly useless. Their notion of where the ground is could be off by a hundred yards. The turbulence could fill them with fear. But a trained pilot knows that when you cannot see, you fly the instruments. The objective measurements on the airplane’s control panel can tell you with certainty where you are, where the plane is, and where you need to go.

In the fog of life, the ground will often be invisible to us—but self-doubting Christians can consider the objective truths of Scripture and fly safely. Chiefly, they may consider how God has freely given up His Son for them, and He will not fail to freely give them all the promises that the Gospel brings (v. 32).

No Separation

And what, exactly, is Paul so sure about? He explains in a dramatic tour de force of theological rhetoric: “Neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (vv. 38–39). That is a comprehensive certainty! It adds no more than his simple “No” in verse 37 in terms of the facts, yet it adds abundantly to our wisdom as we consider the myriad facets of our walk.

“Life,” with all the battles, all the benefits, all the triumphs, all the temptations, will not separate us from God’s love. “Death,” though it may separate us from all we know and all whom we have loved, will not separate us from God’s love.

The heavenly realms of spiritual good and spiritual wickedness—the cross of the Lord Jesus has disarmed these powers (Col. 2:15). No spirit of heaven or hell can contradict what God has already laid down in the Gospel (Gal. 1:8).

Time chases us and harries us. There are worries enough for the present: What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear? (Matt. 6:31 ). Yet God provides. Worries multiply over the future, as they always have: “The world has gone to pot! How will my grandchildren manage?” But God will not die with our generation. God is “our help in ages past,” and He is “our hope for years to come.”²

Height and depth cannot separate us from Him. As the psalmist writes,

If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me. (Ps. 139:9–10)

Wherever we take ourselves in the world and wherever others send us, the love of Christ will go there with us.

“Any powers” whatsoever cannot undo Christ’s love—nor, indeed, can “anything else,” just in case we were worried that something slipped by! There are no loopholes. Nothing can, and nothing will, drive a wedge between God and those whom He has claimed as His own.

A Sure and Certain Hope

When the Book of Common Prayer comes to the service for the burial of the dead, it says something many people find counterintuitive: “We therefore commit his body to the ground … in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

How can hope be “sure and certain”? It cannot, if by “hope" we mean the mere chance of victory. But if we set our hope on something certain—if we give ourselves over not to chance but to the one who holds our lives in His hands—then our hope can be as certain as its object.

“God is for us,” Paul says as he closes his argument. “Therefore, not only is victory assured, but we are hyper-conquerors. Christ is faithful, and having died for us, He will not let any conceivable thing in this world separate us from His love.” The self-doubting Christian can take heart, for in Christ we have a hope that assures us of our future and which cannot be taken away.

This article is the third in a three-part series examining Paul’s closing argument in Romans 8. You can read the first and second parts here and here.

This article was adapted from the sermon “No Separation” by Alistair Begg.

Andraé Crouch, “Through It All” (1971). ↩︎
Isaac Watts, “Our God, Our Help in Ages Past” (1719). ↩︎

Wallpaper: Forever Glorious

TFL — Mon, 09 Mar 2026 04:59:59 GMT

“Blessed be his glorious name forever;
may the whole earth be filled with his glory!
Amen and Amen!”
PSALM 72:19

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The Closing Argument of Romans 8: Facing Off Against Guilt and Suffering

TFL — Wed, 04 Mar 2026 05:00:00 GMT

But the prosecuting attorney, so to speak, has made some persuasive arguments in this case. The guilt of sin is nothing to laugh at, and the persistence of suffering would seem to show that we are on God’s bad side.

To these arguments Paul now applies his case in verses 33–36. God’s favor, he says, is not challenged by these realities. They are immaterial evidence, since the grace of God through Jesus Christ cancels guilt and belies suffering.

Accused but Not Condemned

Having already shown that since God is for believers, no one of any account can stand up against them, Paul then makes application to the question of our guilt before God’s law: “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect?”

There are those who bring charges. Our own hearts accuse us, our friends sometimes oppose us, our enemies undermine us, and the Evil One—whom the Bible calls “the accuser of our brothers” (Rev. 12:10)—comes again and again to say, “You’re no Christian. Look at how you talk. Look at how you treat your spouse. Look how little you pray.” The accuser stands before the Father and says, “How can you possibly declare this one justified?”

Yet before God’s throne there is an attorney for the defense: “Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us” (v. 34). Jesus can hold up His wounded hands, put forward His wounded feet, reveal His wounded side, and say, “The sentence has already been served. I was made sin so that they might become righteous.” (See 2 Cor. 5:21.)

The case, then, is closed. God is the Judge; the Evil One is not. And the Judge has banged His gavel. The prosecutor can make whatever accusation he likes, but there is no double jeopardy. No one can raise again the charges God has dismissed on Christ’s account. “It is God who justifies,” so “who is to condemn?” No one!

Our Advocate with the Father

Importantly, the risen Lord Jesus today is not nowhere (nor everywhere) doing who knows what; He is somewhere, and He is doing something. Jesus, in His physical body, has ascended to “the right hand of God,” and there He “is interceding for us” (v. 34). In Jesus, we have the best lawyer possible—one who knows the Judge intimately, who is ever present at the bench for us, and who, indeed, has already dealt with our penalty by paying it Himself.

The book of Hebrews teaches us that the priests of the old covenant “were prevented by death from continuing in office.” Jesus, on the other hand, “holds his priesthood permanently, because he continues forever.” And “consequently, he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them” (7:23–25). In His position as our Priest-Advocate, He is both able and willing to finish what He has begun.

We may do a little test in our minds: Consider the question “Why do you think you will go to heaven?” With what pronoun are you tempted to begin your answer? Is it “Because I…”? Or is it “Because He…”? When we look to ourselves, we will only find reason to doubt. But when we look to our faithful Advocate, we can rest assured. He has done it for us!

Retained for Us, Forever

Furthermore, we needn’t doubt the faithfulness of our Advocate. He is retained for us, forever. The self-doubting Christian should not be discouraged by suffering, because the Savior loves us with an unfailing love.

As Paul asks, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” we are to understand that none of the forces he names—“tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword” (v.35)—can ever do so. Indeed, far from being a sign of God’s abandonment, suffering may be a sign of our participation in Christ. It is for the Lord’s sake, Paul says (quoting Psalm 44), that we suffer.

Without a proper theology of suffering, we will be tempted to import what God promises for the then into the now. We will hear the promise that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes (Rev. 21:4) and wonder, “Why are my eyes still so full of tears?” Or else we will live in denial, pretending that all is well to reassure ourselves we are in God’s graces.

But we know that Christians really do suffer. There is no suggestion that the threats Paul names aren’t real, even expected. “Here,” Paul says, “are some of the enemies of our happiness. They can afflict you now for a little while, but they cannot separate you, ultimately.” The proper perspective on our sufferings, as he has already told us in verse 18, is to remember how glorious our eventual vindication will be: “The sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”

Paul knew tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, and sword (2 Cor. 11:16–29 ). Paul experienced intense opposition to his Gospel ministry. Yet he also knew the faithfulness of his Advocate—enough so that he could assure himself and every Christian that none of these sufferings or persecutions “will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (v. 39).

Holding, or Held?

There was a time not so long ago when parents could pile their small children into minivans and station wagons in all kinds of positions―some of them looking out of the back window like a dog, some of them sitting up in between the gear stick and the emergency brake, some of them hanging over the top—and drive off to wherever they were going. In contrast, today’s parents—perhaps wisely—can’t drive ten feet without securing their children in a five-point harness.

The picture we sometimes have of the Christian life is like that old way of doing things: We think we’re on top of the station wagon, holding on for dear life as Dad propels the machine to Florida at seventy miles per hour. But this isn’t at all the case! Jesus Christ has buckled us in, with all the care of a mother for her infant. In the words of the old hymn, “He will hold me fast”—and He will carry us securely to our destination.

This article is the second in a three-part series examining Paul’s closing argument in Romans 8. You can read the first and third parts here and here.

This article was adapted from the sermon “Case Closed!” by Alistair Begg.