grace

Peter’s Response to Criticism: A Lesson in Faith

/ Richard Bargas / Leave a comment

“Now the apostles and the brothers who were throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God. And when Peter came up to Jerusalem, those who were circumcised took issue with him, saying, “You went to uncircumcised men and ate with them.” (Acts 11:1–3, LSB)

People were saved, and yet there is criticism.

Note that even in the greatest blessings within the church, there is always at least one person (or two) willing to see the negative side. And notice that the problem they have with this is an unbiblical tradition that was broken. 

How does Peter respond? Here we have a wonderful example! Peter is calm and patient. He explains the situation, brings biblical clarity, and then humbly awaits the church to share its wisdom. In this instance, they concurred with Peter.

Had the majority agreed with the circumcision party, I do not think Peter would have bowed out and remained silent. However, his first response was to trust the Spirit to lead the leaders, and if they were not led by the Spirit, then I think Peter would have continued to passionately reason with them from the Word.

Here is the balance of Spirit and truth; shepherding and yet being shepherded. Let us learn both.

Human Heart and Unbelief: A Biblical Perspective

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“Therefore many of the Jews who came to Mary, and saw what He had done, believed in Him. But some of them went to the Pharisees and told them the things which Jesus had done. Therefore the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered the Sanhedrin together, and were saying, ‘What are we doing? For this man is doing many signs. If we let Him go on like this, all will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.’”  (John 11:45–48, LSB)

It is amazing how deep the human capacity is for unbelief and skepticism. In Luke 16:19-31, Jesus tells the parable of the rich man who is cast into hell. The man begs for permission to allow Lazarus to rise from the dead to go and warn his brothers that hell is not only real but that they are heading toward joining him. The rich man believes that if only a dead man will warn them, then their hard hearts will melt and they will believe. In Jesus’ parable, Abraham tells the rich man that these five brothers have the Scriptures and that this testimony from God should be enough. The rich man disagrees. After all, he too had the Scriptures, and he ended up in hell! No, a man raised from the dead was needed. Something so miraculous, so irrefutable that they had to believe and repent. He had one shot at getting through to his brothers, and he knew he needed a BIG sign to get their attention.

After Jesus raised his friend Lazarus from the dead (not the fictional man by the same name), we read in John 11:45-48 the response of those that were eyewitnesses. Many believed in Him, Jesus (v. 45). But notice where the emphasis moves after the mention of those who believed; some went to the unbelieving religious leaders and told them what Jesus had done. Since this group is set apart from those who believed, we shouldn’t be confused about what they were doing. They weren’t reporting the miracle as a good thing, but as a concern.

And the Pharisees, how did they take it? They didn’t deny that Jesus was doing sings that pointed people to God, and that they were irrefutable. They were past the phase where they considered Jesus a huckster and fraud. No, Jesus was demonstrating unmistakable power, most likely from God Himself. His power not only confirmed that He had been sent by God, but it further undergirded His own claim to be God.

This led them to a greater fear than the fear of God. They feared losing their positions of power and prominence. They feared that if word spread, the believers would grow to the point that everyone would believe that Jesus was the promised Messiah. But their fears were unfounded. Everyone wouldn’t believe, and their own resistance in the face of proof was evidence of the stubborn hearts of men. A man had been raised from the dead and it was very clear that Jesus did this by His own power. Yet, those who reported didn’t believe in Him, and neither did the majority of the religious leaders.

There are some people who say they are agnostic in their beliefs, denying God because they think evidence is lacking. But will there ever be enough evidence for these doubters? The proof of God is all around them and even beats within their chests. God sent His Son, and His Son died on the cross as the Savior of the world. “But…I need more proof.” The problem isn’t that proof doesn’t exist. The problem is the human heart, laden with sin, doesn’t want to believe. There is no neutral ground. God has shown Himself in so many ways, but still the human heart wants to suppress that knowledge:

“For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, both His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. For even though they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish heart was darkened.  (Romans 1:18–21, LSB)

The people that watched Lazarus come out of that tomb believed in God, but they couldn’t believe in Jesus. The Pharisees believed in God, but they rejected Jesus. The agnostic doesn’t deny God exists, he just doesn’t have enough proof to believe. But that’s not an honest assessment, as much as the agnostic wants it to sound humble and honest. The evidence is “clearly seen” and so all people, are without excuse.

What’s the solution? Seek God. Go to Him in humble prayer and ask Him to reveal Himself to you. Pick up a Bible and read it. It is God’s Word to you. Begin in the New Testament, maybe in John, the Gospel I am writing from this morning. Then as you read, let the God who came to save the world speak to you through His Word.  

Embracing Vulnerability as a Christian Leader

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“Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. And it was the Mary who anointed the Lord with perfume, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick. So the sisters sent to Him, saying, “Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.” (John 11:1–3, LSB) 

There is an abundance of goodness in this account of Lazarus being raised from the dead by Jesus that I wish I had the time to discuss this morning. However, the opening verses convey many truths that the rest of the account confirms. Jesus loves His sheep. I’m not suggesting that Jesus only loves His sheep or that His love for them is of the same kind or quality as His love for everyone else. Nevertheless, we cannot examine the life of Christ and deny that Jesus was a loving shepherd to His sheep.

This post continues my thoughts from yesterday about Jesus being the Good Shepherd. You can read that post here. Now, in the next chapter, John 11, Jesus will once again demonstrate how deep His love is for His friends.

In this section, we are reintroduced to the siblings, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary has shown her love for Christ by anointing His feet with perfume and wiping His feet with her hair. Martha has been hosting Jesus and the disciples, feeding and caring for them. Lazarus is referenced in verse 3 as “he whom you love.” Jesus the Good Shepherd loves His sheep, and His sheep love Him.

This truth prompted me to reflect on several conversations I’ve had with older pastors. They warned me during my early ministry days that my wife and I should be cautious about becoming too close to those in our congregation. They indicated there was a risk in forming friendships with the people, suggesting that loving them should be maintained from a distance.

I understand. If you keep your distance, when you get burned by others (not if, but when), it will hurt less. Don’t invite them into your life, don’t share, don’t care, and you won’t hurt. All of that is true, but is it faithful? When I look at the life of the Good Shepherd, I see that He wept with those who wept. He was raw, and He even cried. When He saw that Lazarus was dead, Jesus wept (Jn 11:35) even though He knew that He would raise him to life again. 

Jesus wasn’t a cold robot. He didn’t keep people at arm’s length. He had 12 disciples with Him for three years, almost non-stop. They saw Him laugh, cry, and display every human emotion possible, yet without sin. Jesus lived among the sheep, not wrapped in a bubble or in a high tower above them. He touched both the sick and the sinner alike. Are we better than Jesus?

I have experienced many sleepless nights because my troubled heart wakes me from my sleep. I have wept with those who lost loved ones and sat with friends as they faced death. I have laughed deeply until I can hardly breathe. My brothers and sisters in Christ are some of my dearest friends on earth. I feel deeply with them and for them. That’s what love does. And that’s what the Good Shepherd did, and continues to do for His own.If you’re in ministry and someone has told you to stay distant and aloof, don’t buy it. Be wise. Be the mature, Christian leader God has called you to be. But don’t isolate yourself from the sheep to protect your own heart. That’s not only cowardly; it’s ineffective and unfaithful. Remember that a servant is not above his Master (Matt 10:24), and you’re not better than Jesus. Be like Him. Love the sheep.

Balancing Toughness and Tenderness in Pastoral Care

/ Richard Bargas / 2 Comments

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter by the door into the fold of the sheep, but climbs up some other way, he is a thief and a robber. But he who enters by the door is a shepherd of the sheep. To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he brings all his own out, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. A stranger they will never follow, but will flee from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.” (John 10:1–5, LSB)

This passage about Jesus being both the Good Shepherd and the door of the sheep pen conveys a sense of toughness and tenderness. The sheep are cared for, protected, and guided by this good shepherd. Meanwhile, the thief and robber attempt to gain access to the sheep to steal, kill, and destroy them. However, they cannot do so as long as the Good Shepherd watches over His own.

Christians cling to such imagery because it reminds us of the loving care and protection the Savior gives to us, His sheep. As a pastor, I also appreciate the picture because it reminds me of the dual nature of being a pastor as I try to model my care after Christ’s. Being tough and tender are essential elements in every biblical elder’s life and ministry.

Like many things in life, it is all too easy to fall into extremes. I see fellow pastors struggle to be tough. They are soft on sin, fail to confront, delay, or ignore the need for discipline, and tolerate false doctrine under the guise that they want to be humble. All of these are troubling and can lead a church into very dangerous situations if ignored for too long.

What I observe more frequently nowadays is the opposite extreme. I notice many younger pastors who are trying exceptionally hard to appear tough. They speak harshly and project an image of being strict about sin, particularly concerning the sins of those who don’t completely agree with them on every doctrinal issue. I witness toughness in their congregations, where any disagreement is perceived as dissent and division, met with a severity that is alien to the way Jesus dealt with his own. This portrayal is especially unappealing when found on social platforms like X, where the negativity of chest-thumping and public shaming has escalated to an alarming level. How did we get here?

Jesus used both tender and firm hands with those He encountered, even unbelievers. He understood when it was necessary to be firm and when to be gentle. He rebuked “that fox,” Herod, yet was gracious to the woman at the well and the woman caught in adultery. He wasn’t being lenient on sin. He wasn’t condoning their life choices. Jesus never turned away when sin needed to be addressed. It’s not “tenderness” when we compromise by allowing sin to continue without confrontation or resolution. 

But Jesus didn’t always “bring down the hammer” when He saw sin in others. After all, everyone He met was guilty in some way or another! “If You should keep iniquities, O Yah, O Lord, who could stand? But with You there is forgiveness, That You may be feared” (Psalm 130:3–4, LSB). Instead, Jesus aimed for the hearts of those He walked among. He was more direct with the hard-hearted, and He was gentler with the bruised and broken (“A crushed reed He will not break And a faintly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will bring forth justice in truth” (Isaiah 42:3, LSB).

The Good Shepherd was both tender and tough. Regardless of our natural tendencies, we must strive to embody the heart of our Good Shepherd, who was neither lenient toward sin nor harsh with the broken and weak. By doing so, we will more closely reflect the heart of our Master.

Sometimes Faith Seems Too Simple

/ Richard Bargas / Leave a comment

“And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh will be restored to you and you will be clean. But Naaman was furious and went away and said, “Behold, I said to myself, ‘He will surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of Yahweh his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. Are not Abanah and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” So he turned and went away in wrath. Then his servants approached and spoke to him and said, “My father, had the prophet spoken with you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more then, when he says to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy and he was clean.  (2 Kings 5:10–14, LSB)

O how we love our religious rituals. The more complex and complicated, the better.

The scene was simple. Naaman wanted to be healed of his leprosy and he had heard that there was a man of God in Israel who could do what no one else could do. So, piling up all the things you think you need, a letter of introduction, lavish gifts to help grease the wheels of the prophet and to motivate a positive response, and a long, arduous trek through arid lands to show that he was serious about being healed. When Namaan finally arrived, he must have been filled with expectation and hope.

But when the man of God didn’t even come out of his house, instead sending his servant with a message, the sick man was disappointed. Then there was the instructions—go and bathe in the Jordan river, washing seven times. In case you don’t know it, the Jordan is brown, not crystal clear. Now, Namaan grew angry. After all, he was an important man back home. Couldn’t the prophet at least come out and speak to him? And bathe in a dirty river? What about the rituals, the odd dances, potions, sparks, incantations, beads, smoke, chants…but nothing? Just take a bath in this muddy river?

Namaan almost left in disgust. We do love our rituals.

But rituals don’t heal. Neither do clear or muddy rivers. And for that matter, neither do prophets or servants of prophets. Only God has the power to heal. And God works on faith.

When his servants saw his anger and frustration, they knew they would soon be heading back home, and Namaan would still be leprous. So, they tried to reason with their master. “If the prophet had come out and made you swing a chicken over your head and then drink water upside down while you sang “Ave Maria,” would you have done it?” “Well, yes of course,” reasoned the soldier. Now that would be a proper ritual!

“Then, since we have come all this way, why wouldn’t you do the simple thing, trust the man of God, and simply wash as he asked in the Jordan river.”

You know, for some people, faith is too simple. Just trusting that Jesus died in your place for the forgiveness of sins is too easy. We need to do something. Self-flagellation or penance of some sort must be necessary. One hundred “Hail Mary’s” or skip chocolate for a month. I mean, I’ve been bad, but not as bad as that guy, we reason. But just believe? Just trust? It’s too easy! Just place my faith in the finished death, burial, resurrection and ascension of Jesus? There’s got to be more. After all, there’s no such thing as a free lunch!

It’s true. The forgiveness of all our sins, which is more complicated than cleansing from leprosy, did cost more. It cost the life of the Son of God, who willingly gave it because of love, by dying on the cross. There’s nothing more you can do other than receiving this free gift.

When Namaan went into the muddy waters of the Jordan, he came out with skin as soft as a baby’s bottom. And when we come to Christ by faith alone in what he has done, trusting in Him, not our own works, our heart will emerge white as snow. It’s that simple.