Fasting means to abstain from eating and/or drinking as an act of personal and corporate piety. It is common in religions around the world, but in the Christian faith, it holds special significance and can be seen throughout Scripture. During His earthly life, Jesus corrected and clarified the purpose and role of fasting (Matt. 5:16–18; 9:14–16).

THOMAS: There are occasions when you have big, life-changing decisions to make where it is reasonable to go without a meal or two so that you can devote yourself to prayer and meditation. Whether fasting is a mandated spiritual activity for every Christian in the New Testament is up for debate. However, all of us have major decisions to make in life, and those should be made prayerfully, carefully, and with a great deal of thought. Fasting enables you to do that.

In my own life, I have not practiced regular fasting. We could debate as to how long one should fast. I know of an elder who once went without food for twenty-nine days and ended up in the ER. He was at death’s door. I don’t recommend that.

I suspect that when Jesus fasted forty days and forty nights, He didn’t fast from liquid. I am pretty sure that in His physical body, He would not have been able to survive forty days and forty nights without water. If you’ve never fasted before, you should seek out the advice of an older Christian before doing something bizarre.

GORDON: I would just add that if you’re going to fast, nobody should know about it. Jesus constantly condemned the showy religion of the Pharisees, who prayed pompously and made their fasting known. That might check this whole discussion if we keep our fasting to ourselves.

In the health-conscious world, fasting is huge. There are books, studies, and TED talks on the advantages of deliberately giving up food for a time. In fact, folks at your gym are probably fasting more often than folks in your congregation. The North American church has largely lost the practice of fasting. And while health gurus advocate fasting for physical benefits, Christians need to recover fasting for spiritual purposes.

Now, fasting is not a pleasant thing. It is a discipline—something that Scripture associates with hardship. Intense prayer, repentance, and grief all accompany fasting (Judges 20:26; 2 Sam. 12:16; 2 Kings 18:6; Esther 4:16; Ezra 8:21; Mark 2:20; Luke 2:37; Acts 13:2). Fasting is hard work. Like physical workouts, it takes effort, perseverance, determination, and often accountability. But just like a physical workout strengthens the body, fasting has enormous benefits for the Christian’s soul. Here are just four of the many spiritual blessings that God has built into fasting.

First, fasting is a stark reminder that we are creatures dependent on something outside of ourselves for life. If we don’t have food, we will die. We are weak. It is easy to forget this. Of course, we know this, we admit this, but in subtle ways we have bought into our culture’s lie that we are in control. Fasting exposes those subtleties for the deceptions they are: we are creatures with a Creator.

A second benefit is self-control. Like a muscle, self-control gets stronger as you use it. Saying no to ice cream when you’ve been fasting for sixteen hours enlarges the fruit of self-control. The self-control that fasting requires also helps in other areas; sanctification in one quarter overflows to others.

Frequent, varied prayer is a third benefit of fasting. Fasting is a physical reminder to pray. A growling stomach is like a timer going off: time to pray again. Praying frequently for a person or situation means that prayers will become deeper. You can’t pray one line over and over again all day; fasting’s frequent prayer opens up different aspects and angles that we might not otherwise see.

Last, fasting creates a spiritual seriousness. Perhaps this is because we do begin to see deeper into things as we pray. But perhaps it is also because fasting is a physical investment in spiritual battles. We can give our money or our time to the local church, and so we ought to. But fasting is giving ourselves in a silent, immeasurable way. No one can see the physical sacrifice or the spiritual results—which we might not even recognize or understand.

Fasting from food for regular, limited amounts of time will bring us far more benefits than just physical ones. It will draw us more often into the throne room of heaven to plead in Jesus’ name. There are times (pregnancy, illness, etc.) when fasting would be unwise. But for most of us, fasting is a gift that is there for the taking. Are we taking it seriously?

Under the new covenant, corporate worship takes place primarily on the Lord’s Day, as that is when the Apostles gathered with the early Christians to remember the great salvation purchased by Christ (Acts 20:7). That does not mean, however, that corporate worship should never take place at other times. Significant streams of the Reformed tradition have long recognized that the church may call for corporate worship on other days as long as these special occasions of worship are not made obligatory. Even the Westminster Confession, which represents a current of Reformed thought that was most reluctant to encourage the celebration of special worship services on Christmas Day and other traditional feast days, recognizes that a church has liberty to call for special occasions of worship outside of the weekly observance of the Lord’s Day. On such occasions of worship, we must do only what is in accord with biblical principles.

Some of the special occasions that Westminster Confession 21.5 suggests may be appropriate at times are “solemn fastings.” Often, we think of fasting as an individual discipline, but Scripture clearly has a place for corporate fasts as well. Today’s passage, for example, records God’s calling to the old covenant community to repent and fast so as to avoid divine judgment (Joel 2:12). Ezra called for fasting and prayer for the Lord’s protection when he was leading the people back to the Promised Land (Ezra 8:21–23). In the New Testament, we read of the church at Antioch worshiping and fasting just before setting apart Barnabas and Saul for their missionary work (Acts 13:1–3).

We see, then, that fasting can be a part of public worship no less than it can be observed in private worship (Matt. 6:16–18). But why would we fast? It cannot be to somehow merit an answer to prayer, for we do not earn God’s favor by depriving ourselves of His good gifts. Instead, fasting can serve as a reminder to pray. As we feel pangs of hunger, we are reminded of our commitment to set aside time during which we would normally be eating in order to pray for a particular person or situation that inspired the fast to begin with. Fasting also reminds us of our creatureliness and dependence. We are ever tempted to believe that we are self-sufficient, but the hunger we experience in fasting helps us recall that we are needy creatures. That, in turn, drives us to more conscious dependence on God and His blessings.

basis of his abstention from food, but on the fact that he fasted and prayed in the name of Jesus.

So the error on one side is failing to fast at all, and on the other, fasting with confidence in the work of fasting rather than in the work of Christ.

Fasting for a Biblical Purpose
From the pragmatic perspective, the most common oversight is to fast without a clear biblical purpose. When you become aware of your hunger while fasting, you often remember, “Oh yeah, I’m hungry because I’m fasting.” Your next thought should be something like this: “And I’m fasting for this purpose.” There are at least ten purposes in Scripture for fasting, and most relate to prayer. So your hunger actually serves you during a fast in that it is a constant reminder about your biblical purpose, in this case to pray.

Fasting has to be a discipline, otherwise it is a blessing we’ll never experience. When should you fast? Times of special need, when important decisions must be made, or occasions when spiritual longings are especially intense, are often promptings to enter into a fast. But Christians are free to experience the blessings of fasting as often as they desire. Fasting expresses in a God-ordained way our belief that we have tasted and seen that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8) — so good that there are times we’re satisfied to feast on Him instead of the food that the Lord made for us to live on. Fasting is a temporary physical demonstration that we believe the truth declared by the gospel, namely that, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matt. 4:4). Do you believe that? Do you fast?

they will fast” (Matt. 9:15). We live in the interim in which the bridegroom has been taken away. There remains, therefore, a place for fasting. In Acts 9:9 we are told this about Saul of Tarsus: “And for three days he was without sight and neither ate nor drank.” In Acts 13:2–3, the church at Antioch fasted in their preparation to send Paul and Barnabas off on their first missionary journey. In 14:23, prayer and fasting were included in the appointing of elders. Seeking to highlight the benefits of fasting, John Calvin wrote that it is “a holy exercise both for the humbling of men and for their confession of humility.”

On the website Reformed Worship, the late Harvey Albert Smit addressed some of the apprehensions that some Reformed Christians have about fasting. He writes, “When it comes to fasting, we Reformed Christians seem to live in a tension between guilt (if we don’t fast) and fear of self-righteousness (if we do), between feeling that we lack in piety (if we don’t) or that we’re making an ostentatious display of piety (if we do)” (“Fasting,” Issue #6). Given the extremes of much of evangelical literature on spiritual disciplines, including fasting, one can understand the confusion Smit expresses. Calvin even warns against the danger of superstitions that can easily creep in. In fact, he says, “it would be much more satisfactory if fasting were not practiced at all, than diligently observed and at the same time corrupted with false and pernicious opinions, into which the world repeatedly falls.” This is the sort of thing that the apostle Paul strongly refutes in Colossians.

So let us be clear, fasting in the new covenant is not commanded by God, nor is it or any other spiritual discipline a means by which we earn (by our sincerity) anything from God. On the contrary, fasting is an act of humility wherein we acknowledge our need to subdue the appetites of the flesh and focus more intently on who we are and what we have been given in Christ.

Scripture often links the spiritual discipline of prayer to fasting (Dan. 9:3; Luke 2:37). Since we just finished a brief look at old covenant prayer and its new covenant fulfillment, it is now proper to look at the spiritual discipline of fasting.

Our passage today records a fast Ezra the scribe once mandated. The setting is the Persian Empire, which in Ezra’s day had recently overthrown Babylon, the kingdom that destroyed Jerusalem in 586 BC and took captive the people of God (2 Kings 25). As it did with other people groups, Persia allowed the Israelites to go back to their homeland, and Ezra went back to enact various religious reforms (Ezra 7:1–8:20). Traveling on the roads was not very safe back then. Thieves and bandits often waited to ambush caravans, and in the particular case of the Jews, there were neighbors who would have been all too happy to assault Ezra and his band of returning exiles (see Neh. 4:7–8). This put Ezra and his caravan in a precarious position, especially since no royal guard accompanied them back. So Ezra proclaimed a fast, and the Lord answered, giving the people a safe journey to Jerusalem (Ezra 8:21–23).

Why the fast? In the first place, it was due to the desperate situation in which the people found themselves and their need to show their dependence on God’s kindness. Going without food put the people in a state of helplessness that helped them understand how they had to rely on His grace in every situation. This fast further aided them to implore the Lord for help with all their hearts. This is not to say that their fasting guaranteed God would respond favorably, for fasting is not done in hopes of binding the Lord to a certain course of action. John Piper explains: “[Fasting] is not first offered to God that we might be paid back because of it. It is first given by God that we might benefit from it and that he might be glorified through it” (A Hunger for God, p. 177). Fasting reminds us of our creatureliness and moves us to learn better what it means to depend on our Creator, thereby glorifying His name.

The Lord may not give us precisely what we request each time we fast, as we may not ask according to God’s will. Nevertheless, Piper says, “God is committed to rewarding those acts of the human heart that signify human helplessness and hope in God” (p. 178). If we humbly seek Him as we fast, the Lord will certainly bless us.

Yesterday we saw that “God rewards fasting because fasting expresses the cry of the heart that nothing on the earth can satisfy our souls besides God” (John Piper, A Hunger for God, p. 181). The practice never obligates the Lord to respond to our prayer precisely as we have asked. Nevertheless, just as when we first admitted our inability to save ourselves and called on Christ to redeem us, God is pleased when we put ourselves in a more helpless state by forgoing food because it displays how we are aware of our need for His grace at every stage of our lives.

Fasting among the pagan peoples who surrounded the ancient Israelites was far different. The followers of these religions thought they could obligate their gods to behave in specific ways if they fasted. Unsurprisingly, many Israelites adopted this belief in relation to their covenant Lord just as they had adopted other Canaanite beliefs , adding Baal and other foreign deities as objects of worship (Jer. 9:12–16; Hos. 2:13). We see an example of how many ancient Israelites believed their fasting could make God do their bidding in Isaiah 58:1–12. In verse 3, the prophet puts into writing the complaints he has heard from the people. As it says, the people were perplexed as to why their fastings had gone unnoticed by the Lord; that is, they wanted to know why He had not intervened on their behalf.

Aside from the fact that the sovereign creator God is by no means under any compulsion to respond to the fasts of His people as they might like, Isaiah gives another reason why Israel’s fast had been ignored. Verses 6–12 explain that the kind of fast the Lord wanted from His children was not merely the forgoing of food, but the end of wickedness and oppression, as well as providing for the needs of the poor and hungry. It is not that God wanted to abolish the practice of fasting altogether; He only desired the Israelites to have more than a surface-level piety. Apparently, the people refused to release their debtors as prescribed in Deuteronomy 15:1–2. They were praying and fasting, which was easy, but not obeying the harder command to forgive debts. No amount of fasting could help while they held onto this grave sin without repenting. God’s people should not expect Him to answer their fasting and prayer as long as they knowingly and obstinately refuse to repent and follow His will.

Before we look at Jesus’ teaching on fasting in today’s passage, we need to provide a few closing comments on the Lord’s Prayer, the prayer He has given to His disciples (Matt. 6:9–15). Most believers have prayed this prayer verbatim at some point, which is not inappropriate if it is said with thoughtful reflection. Yet this prayer is to be used primarily as a guide for structuring our communion with God. We are to pray like Jesus teaches us (v. 9; Luke 11:1–4). In other words, it is good to compose our prayers after the format of the Lord’s Prayer, using it as a model to follow. Taking each petition and applying it more directly to our own lives, we are to pray for our own particular needs, sins, and the extension of His kingdom among our friends and families.

Praying for the extension of God’s kingdom is especially important (Matt. 6:10). Since our Creator already rules over all (Ps. 97:1), this is a prayer for His rule to be recognized, not established. It is a prayer that we and those around us cease to rebel against our Father and do His will just as it is done in heaven (Matt. 6:9–10) — spontaneously, not begrudgingly, and with full acknowledgment and respect of His holiness. Augustine said that to pray for the kingdom to come is to pray for it to be manifested on earth (Sermon on the Mount, 2.6.20).

Today’s passage records our Savior’s teaching on avoiding hypocrisy when fasting, a major act of Jewish piety in His day. During Jesus’ lifetime, fasting is an opportune time for displaying one’s piety; many go about disheveled and visibly hungry to show others their “spirituality.” Some even dirty themselves with ashes to show how much they have “given up for God.” As with prayer and almsgiving, the Messiah’s solution is not to forbid fasting altogether, but to make sure that it is done in secret so that His disciples will receive a lasting reward (Matt. 6:16–18). Our fasting is to be so secretive that we show forth our cleanliness and joy, which was often done with oil in first-century Israel (Ps. 104:14–15). If we are clean and happy, who but God will know we are fasting? Contentment with piety for the Lord’s sake and not as a show for others will bring us far more than the fleeting praises of men (Matt. 6:18).

Jesus frequently caused a stir, as we have seen in the religious leaders' questioning of His willingness to dine with sinners (Mark 2:13–17). But our Lord's adversaries were not the only ones who found His acts perplexing. Even the average Jewish citizen who had not necessarily formed an opinion for or against Jesus was at times confused by what He did, as is evident in today's passage.

The episode recorded in today's passage pertains to the rite of fasting and Christ's apparent rejection of the practice, at least in the eyes of the people. Both John the Baptist and the Pharisees were known for engaging in fasts (v. 18). John's fasting fit with His role as the final old covenant prophet whose message centered on repentance. After all, there are several examples of fasting in the Old Testament wherein people abstained from food while they repented for sin (Neh. 9:1–3; Jonah 3). We do not find this surprising, as the one mandatory fast prescribed in the Old Testament occurred in conjunction with confession of sin on the Day of Atonement (see Lev. 16:29–34, where "afflict yourselves" is equivalent to fasting). With regard to the Pharisees, first-century Jews regarded fasting as a mark of general piety, not just repentance, and the Pharisees were known for fasting on Mondays and Thursdays. Despite the onerous burdens the Pharisees created with their interpretations, the common people held a favorable view of them. So, it makes sense why they would question not only why Jesus' disciples did not fast as John's disciples did, but also why they did not fast as the Pharisees did.

Notice that in our Lord's response, He did not say that fasting was inherently improper. Neither did He condemn the Pharisees for their additional fasts, though He certainly would have stood firm against any attempt to mandate their additional fasts as something God required for everyone. Instead, we see that Christ viewed their fasts as taking place during the wrong time. Likening Himself to a bridegroom, Jesus reminded them that no one in His day ever fasted during a wedding celebration, which could involve feasting for as many as seven days (Mark 2:19–20). A time for fasting would come— when the bridegroom was gone—but it was not yet. He was referring to His return to the Father's right hand after His resurrection.

Finally, let us not miss the significance of Jesus' comparing Himself to the bridegroom. It is an implicit claim to deity, for the bridegroom of ancient Israel was God Himself (Isa. 62:5).

A questions and answers session with Drs. W. Robert Godfrey, Christopher Gordon, and Derek Thomas.

Note: Answers given reflect the views of the individual speakers and do not necessarily reflect the views of Dr. R.C. Sproul and Ligonier Ministries. Here is our Statement of Faith.

In exile the people of Israel faced the question: “How do you sing the Lord’s song in a strange and foreign land?” The question is similar to that faced by contemporary American Christians. Ours is a spiritual exile as we confront a culture and government increasingly hostile to Christianity.

We look to Nehemiah for clues to guide our own pilgrimage in difficult times. Nehemiah was grief-stricken by the news of the condition of Jerusalem. The walls were broken down and its gates burned with fire. His first emotion over the sad loss of his heritage was grief. It was not bitterness or anger. Nehemiah wept and mourned as Jesus would later weep over the same city.

In his grief, Nehemiah moved to the next step, prayer and fasting. His prayer was first of all a prayer of adoration for the majestic awe of God and for His faithfulness to His people: “O great and awesome God, You who keep Your covenant and mercy with those who love You and observe Your commandments.”

Even in exile, Nehemiah praised God for His covenant faithfulness. Then the focus of his prayer turned to repentance, pleading with God to forgive the sins of his own people, acknowledging that they had brought exile upon themselves.

Nehemiah was a cup-bearer to the king. He served in a pagan government as a believer in God. His vocation was that of a servant. He was humble and respectful to the king, but proper fear of his king did not stop him from acting to save his people. He prayed to God and made a request of the king, asking for permission to go to Jerusalem to rebuild it. He also asked for letters that he might present to lesser governors for safe conduct and even a grant for building materials.

Not all the pagan governors were sanguine toward Nehemiah and his plans. Indeed, some were fiercely resistant to them. When Sanballat the Horonite and Tobiah the Ammonite official heard of it, they were deeply disturbed that a man had come to seek the well-being of the children of Israel (Neh. 2:10). But there is nothing unusual about this as it is a common pagan reaction to the mission of the church in any age.

When Nehemiah set about the task of rebuilding his enemies laughed at him and despised him. Nehemiah, though, did not let his critics determine his agenda. He was polite but firm in his response to them.

When Nehemiah’s pagan enemies received word that he had rebuilt the walls (but the doors were not yet hung on the gates), they invited him to meet with them in a special “audience.” Nehemiah had no time for this sort of thing, knowing the plans of the enemy were evil. He replied to Sanballat and his cronies, “Why should the work cease while I leave it and go down to you?” Sanballat then sent an open letter accusing Nehemiah of a seditious attempt to become a king and other false charges. Nehemiah sent back a

to God, "What have you done for me lately?" His faith is so fragile that after one minor setback, he loses his confidence and is in mourning. Joshua thought he understood the full measure of God's commitment to him and to his army, and he is beside himself when this defeat takes place at the hands of an enemy that Israel should have been able to run over without the help of God. Now even with God's promise, they suffer this humiliating defeat. All of a sudden, Joshua's wondering, "Was God's promise of success an illusion? Was I hearing things? God promised that we'd never be defeated, and now we're defeated." What Joshua endures here, as we see in his fasting, mourning, and seeking God's face, is a crisis of faith.

Why were the Israelites defeated? Joshua 7:1 tells us: "The people of Israel broke faith in regard to the devoted things, for Achan . . . of the tribe of Judah, took some of the devoted things. And the anger of the Lord burned against the people of Israel." Yes, God promised Israel victory, but He also commanded the people to exercise scrupulous obedience to the terms of this conflict. God instituted the ban against the Canaanites, meaning that in this conquest of holy war the soldiers could not take any personal loot or booty. And one man in the army disobeyed. Achan succumbed to the temptation to line his own pockets with the spoils from the victory at Jericho. And because of one man's sin, God held the whole nation of Israel accountable. Because of this trespass, God's anger is expressed against Israel, and His providential judgment causes this defeat.

Scripture warns us that on this side of glory, there is not a one-to-one correlation between obedience and blessing. Faithful people are often successful, but sometimes they experience great defeat. The faithless often suffer for their wrongdoing, but sometimes they enjoy many outward successes. Nevertheless, success and strong, confident faith are some of the blessings that the Lord gives to those who keep His commandments (Ps. 1). Though God has not promised to act in the same miraculous manner today as He did in the days of old, we can expect Him to move in our behalf. We don't merit righteousness before our Father by our obedience, and the Lord's grace is so vast that He regularly blesses us in spite of our disobedience. Still, perhaps we would see more blessing and experience less doubt if we were to serve Him more faithfully.

According to Jesus, it is what we do in secret that matters most. Jesus is not suggesting that the outward is unimportant—far from it. “What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him?” (James 2:14).

The answer is emphatically no. Still, it is also possible to have outward works but no inner reality. In this instance, religion is a pretense. Six times in the Sermon on the Mount, alluding to three distinct exercises, Jesus employs the term secret:

Give “in secret . . . and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:4). Pray “in secret . . . and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:6). Fast “in secret . . . and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matt. 6:18).

The Sermon on the Mount is addressing the issue of authenticity. Just how genuine is our relationship with the Lord Jesus? It is altogether possible to practice an outward display of piety—to “talk the talk”—without demonstrating any inner reality of godliness. This is true of every professing Christian, and it is especially true of those engaged in Christian ministry. Authentic Christianity requires an outward and discernible “work of faith” (1 Thess. 1:3; 2 Thess. 1:11). But it also requires genuine godly affections and an inner discipline of the heart.

There is a manner of ministry that is more about self-service than self-sacrifice, self-indulgence than self-discipline, and self-promotion than self-denial. There is also giving that is designed for recognition—plaques on walls intended to be read by generations to come, or press releases informing the world of “generous donations”; prayers in pristine Cranmerlike language of the sixteenth century suggesting depths of personal piety; fasting that is shown via open-necked T-shirts revealing a ribbed torso.

But all these outward demonstrations of piety may be no more than mere hypocrisy. The Greek word translated “hypocrites” (Matt. 6:2, 5) refers to the masks worn by ancient actors as symbols of pretense and show. Thus, give with fanfare; pray with pride; fast with notice. This ministry is inauthentic. It is a sham.

Inauthentic ministry was a charge leveled against Paul. The Corinthians said that there was discrepancy between the way he wrote his letters and the way he was in person: “His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech of no account” (2 Cor. 10:10). It is a serious charge, and in his second letter to the church at Corinth, Paul spends almost the entire time defending himself. The critique came from jealousy and therefore bore no legitimacy. But the fact is, the charge can be true—not of Paul, but of us. Leadership calls for genuineness, authenticity and transparency.

True, there’s something of a cliché about the word authentic when applied to Christian ministry (add contemporary, intentional, relevant, and community to that list). If we really need to add the description authentic, we are

Reformed world.

Then Jacob Arminius and his followers, named Remonstrants, attacked this church with various errors, some old and some new, first privately and then openly. Scandalous dissensions and obstinately disordered schisms led to such division that this most flourishing church would have been consumed in the horrible fire of these dissensions and schisms unless the compassion of our Savior had intervened at the right time. Blessed forever be the Lord, who after He had hidden His face for a moment from us (who had provoked His wrath and indignation in many ways), has shown the whole world that He does not forget His covenant and does not scorn the sighing of His people. When it appeared that there was hardly any human hope of remedy, He inspired the minds of the Most Illustrious and Mighty States General of the Dutch federation, together with the counsel and direction of the Most Illustrious and Mighty Prince of Orange, to use those legitimate means which the Apostles themselves practiced. Those means, followed as examples by those who came after the Apostles, came down to us, sanctioned by long use in the Christian church and practiced before this with great fruit also in the Dutch church. These civil governors decided to face the raging evils before them, declaring by their authority that a synod be convened in Dordrecht from all their provinces. They also requested and procured for this Synod many most important theologians by the favor of the Most Serene and Powerful King of Great Britain, James, and of various Most Illustrious Princes, Counts, and Republics.

By the common judgment of so many theologians of the Reformed church, the teachings of Arminius and his followers would be judged accurately and by the Word of God alone, true doctrine established and false doctrine rejected, and—by the divine blessing—harmony, peace, and tranquility be restored to the Dutch churches. This is that blessing of God in which the Dutch churches exult. They humbly acknowledge the compassions of their faithful Savior and gratefully preach them.

Before the meeting of this venerable Synod, the authority of the highest magistrates called for and held gatherings of prayer and fasting in all the Dutch churches to avert the wrath of God and to implore His gracious help. The Synod then gathered in the name of the Lord at Dordrecht, inflamed by love of the divine majesty and of the well-being of the church. After calling on the name of God, it bound itself by a holy oath to have for its judgment only the standard of Holy Scripture, and in its proceedings to understand and to act in judgment with good and honest conscience, and to do this diligently. It bound itself with great patience to persuade the leading advocates of that teaching cited before them to present their conviction about the Five Heads of Doctrine and to expound fully the reasons for that conviction. But when they repudiated the judgment of the synod and refused to respond to its questions, neither

and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed.

Paul and Barnabas did not stop their labor with evangelism after seeing new converts brought to saving faith in Christ through the preaching of the gospel. Rather, they returned to where they had previously made disciples. Luke tells us that they strengthened the souls of the disciples (Acts 14:22). Paul recognized that a further work was needed among those who had become disciples of Christ through the preaching of the gospel.

Luke records that “when they had appointed elders for them in every church . . . they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed” (Acts 14:23). At the inception of the new covenant church, Paul and Barnabas understood that believers needed a church in order for them to be strengthened to “continue in the faith” (Acts 14:22). Where there was no church, they organized one with the believers there. This too is essential to discipleship. Believers are brought to saving faith and then strengthened for continuance in the faith as disciples through the ministry of local churches.

Discipleship occurs primarily through the ministry of the means of grace—namely, the Word, prayer, the sacraments, and discipline—in the context of the gathered worshiping assembly of God’s people. While some well-meaning believers may convince themselves that discipleship primarily occurs through a youth group, college ministry, one-on-one mentoring, or personal Bible study (all which have their place in the lives of the people of God), the local church is the principal sphere of discipleship. For this reason, the Lord has sent laborers out to the harvest to plant and establish local churches in which men, women, boys, and girls are discipled in the school of Christ. If we are going to be obedient to the Great Commission, we should commit to supporting the work of church planting for the discipling of Christ’s people among the nations.

How is a disciple of Christ to maintain integrity while working under pressure? You may have been given a difficult task with an urgent deadline; your boss may be demanding and cruel; your co-workers may be unpleasant and unhelpful; or you may lack the tools, training, and experience to tackle the job at hand. Where do you turn?

Turn to the Lord, of course, and to His Word for guidance. In fact, Scripture unveils for us a behind-the-scenes tutorial from such an experience and a pattern for navigating hard situations of all kinds.

A young Hebrew exile named Nehemiah found himself in a very tight spot around 450 BC. Born into slavery in Babylon among the Jewish captives, Nehemiah flourished with God’s favor in the household of King Artaxerxes. With a winsome personality and a reputation for loyalty and trustworthiness, he rose to the position of personal cupbearer to the king.

Then, one day, a heavy burden was laid on his shoulders. The small remnant of Jews left in Jerusalem were in great trouble, the wall of the city of God was broken down, and its gates destroyed by fire. Would his master, the Persian king, send aid? What could Nehemiah do in such a time as this?

Nehemiah’s first response was a dedicated time of crying out to God in prayer: “As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven” (Neh. 1:4). Confessing his and his peoples’ sins, searching the Scriptures, and pleading God’s covenant promises, Nehemiah laid out his plight before the Lord, asking for success in approaching the king. We, too, are invited to cast our anxious burdens on the Lord, knowing that He cares for us.

Confirmed in his calling, Nehemiah boldly but humbly approached the king with a plan: “Send me to Judah . . . that I may rebuild it” (Neh. 2:5). The king granted his request, by God’s grace, along with letters of passage to the kings of the regions he must pass through and a letter of credit for supplies from the keeper of the king’s forest. Commit your work to the Lord, and your plans will be established. (Prov. 16:3)

Ask big, seek boldly, knock in detail. God knows your needs, and He promises to supply them within His will.

Upon arrival in the desolate city, Nehemiah secretly surveyed the scene on horseback by night, carefully analyzing the scope of work. Confirmed in his plan, Nehemiah rallied partners among the priests, the officials, and the rest who were to do the work. Having devised a workable sequence of small steps to be accomplished, each household was commissioned to lay the beams, set the doors, and repair the bars of the gate nearest their own homes. Having a team of invested and like-minded brothers and sisters is vital to success. We are instructed, Without counsel plans fail,

What most people know about the book of Joel is the great prophecy in Joel 2:28–29, where God promises to pour out His Spirit on all flesh so that all members of the community of God’s people prophesy. But the meaning of those verses cannot be understood apart from the message of the book. There are three things you should know about the book of Joel that will help you understand its message.

First, the historical context of most prophetic books is important to the message of the book, but the date of the book of Joel is uncertain. The temple is functioning, which means it could be the pre-exilic temple of Solomon (destroyed in 586 BC) or the temple that is dedicated after the return from exile (516 BC). No king is mentioned, and none of the major enemies of Israel or Judah are mentioned. Scholars have offered a variety of options for its date, but no one date has carried the day. The book seems to reflect a pre-exilic perspective that relates to events surrounding the destruction of the first temple, such as the sacrifices being cut off (Joel 1:9), the threat from a northern army (Joel 2:20), and a future deliverance described (Joel 2:23–29). Some think the book is hard to date because it became a liturgical text to be repeated during a time of national disaster.

The second thing that you should know about the book of Joel is that the occasion for the book is connected to the message of the book. The occasion of the book is a locust plague. Chapter 1 is a call for a communal lament because of a locust plague that was so devastating that nothing like it had ever happened before. The plague is described in Joel 1:4, where swarms of locusts have destroyed everything that is edible. Different groups are called to mourn because of the results: Drunkards are to mourn because the vines have been destroyed (Joel 1:5–7), the priests are to mourn because the sacrifices are cut off (Joel 1:8–10), and the farmers are to mourn because there will be no harvest (Joel 1:11–12). The priests are also called to lead God’s people in a service of mourning made up of weeping and fasting (Joel 1:13–14).

The chaos of a locust plague becomes a description of the day of the Lord. It will be a day of judgment for those who reject God and a day of blessing for those who return to God. The locust plague introduces the coming judgment of that day, first mentioned in Joel 1:15: Alas for the day! For the day of the LORD is near.

The destruction of the day is described in Joel 1:16–20 with an urgent call to alarm in Joel 2:1–2, which culminates in an emphasis of the character of that “day” as “a day of

“Curiouser and curiouser” (from Alice in Wonderland) seems an apropos response to our culture’s relationship to food. At one polar end, there are eating competitions to assess who can down the most hot dogs or slices of pizza. At the other, there is a growing movement of the practice of intermittent and prolonged fasting, apart from the Christian practice of prayer and fasting.

In between overeating and not eating at all, there is evidence of moral weight assigned to dietary choices. Recipes are commended as “virtuous and simple,” and invitations are made to cook and consume foods in line with “nature’s self-organizing perfection.” Ethical vocabulary may be noticeably absent from other spheres, but not so in the context of our eateries. A pilgrim following in Apostolic footsteps may well conclude after watching all the cooking shows and reading the gastronomical magazines: “Modern Western denizens: I perceive you are very religious!”

Gluttony, biblically speaking, can be summed up as laboring “for the food that perishes” (John 6:27). It is not only found in over-consumption, but an idolatrous expectation that looks to eating and drinking to provide sating and fullness for the soul (the inner person). To be gluttonous, then, is to carry “broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jer. 2:13). After all, food as a created reality is a gift, but not to be regarded as having the character or potency of the Creator and Giver (cf. James 1:17).

To be sure, gluttony is to be distinguished from proper feasting. The calendar of the old covenant church was punctuated by days of worship and feasting: “Keep your feasts, O Judah; fulfill your vows” (Nah. 1:15). The communion of saints following the day of Pentecost included “receiv[ing] their food with glad and generous hearts” (Acts 2:46). A Christian abiding in Christ, who has the Spirit-given fruit of self-control, thus should be able to enjoy daily bread and feast in the presence of God. But believers must also be on guard, lest anxiety over what to eat or laying hold of edible goods as holding supernatural power enter into the equation of their lives (see Luke 12:22; 1 Cor. 8:8).

One of the keys to grasping gluttony and mortifying this sin is to know from the get-go that it starts in the heart, not in the stomach. Gluttony certainly involves the body, but it’s not limited to the body and cannot be reduced to bodily appetites and cravings. At the root of gluttony is what you are asking of what you are eating, what you are expecting of what you are taking in, in how you view and value what’s on the table in front of you. Is your belly your “god” (Phil. 3:19)? In other words, are your taste buds and the hankering of your stomach what you are seeking to satisfy at all costs?

Kim Chernin, author of The Obsession: Reflections on the Tyranny of Slenderness, wrote, “What I wanted from food was companionship, comfort, reassurance, a sense of warmth