“Micaiah said, ‘Therefore hear the word of the Lord: I saw the Lord sitting on his throne, and all the host of heaven standing beside him on his right hand and on his left; and the Lord said, “Who will entice Ahab, that he may go up and fall at Ramoth-gilead?” And one said one thing, and another said another. Then a spirit came forward and stood before the Lord, saying, “I will entice him.” And he said, “By what means?” And he said, “I will go out, and will be a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets.” And he said, “You are to entice him, and you shall succeed; go out and do so.” Now therefore behold, the Lord has put a lying spirit in the mouth of all these your prophets; the Lord has declared disaster for you.’ ”
The Story Behind the Vision
This passage was my Scripture reading today. As a matter of practice, I first wrote these thoughts to preach them to myself before considering whether I would share them more broadly.
The northern king Ahab wants to retake Ramoth-gilead. Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, visits, and Ahab asks him to join the campaign. Jehoshaphat requests a word from the Lord first. Ahab gathers about four hundred prophets, and all promise victory. Jehoshaphat senses flattery and asks if there is another prophet of the Lord. Ahab mentions Micaiah, famous for unwelcome messages. Pressed to speak, Micaiah declares defeat and explains why so many prophets promise success. He has seen a vision of the heavenly court.
The scene is vivid: God enthroned, angels on His right and left, a deliberation about how to bring Ahab’s story to its rightful end. The decision fits Ahab’s heart. He prefers smooth words to hard truth, so deception through prophecy becomes the path of justice.
This story unfolds as more than history. It is a mirror for every age in which power seeks blessing and religion obliges.
1. What God Requires
God requires His servants to speak from His prior Word. Micaiah anchors his courage in what God had already spoken through Elijah: judgment on Ahab’s house because of Naboth’s blood. Revelation already given sets the plumb line for what is being said now.
That same calling rests on pastors and teachers today. The authority of our words depends on their fidelity to what God has already revealed in Scripture. Historical creeds and confessions help us remember how faithful believers have read the Bible before us, keeping us connected to the communion of saints, but they do not stand beside Scripture as equal voices. Scripture alone rules.
2. Why We Struggle to Do What God Requires
Ahab’s problem is appetite. He surrounds himself with agreeable prophets because he wants reassurance more than righteousness. The prophets want acceptance more than faithfulness. That combination is lethal.
The same pattern reappears whenever leaders—political or ecclesiastical—discover that affirmation sells better than correction.
It is easy for pastors to bless what powerful people desire, whether that power belongs to a president named Trump or one named Obama, or to any local authority who can reward loyalty. Some of us crave influence; others simply want safety. We fear being labeled, losing members, or offending donors. The words we speak begin to sound more like campaign rhetoric than gospel truth.
Our mouths may still say “Lord, Lord,” yet the desire underneath whispers “Ahab, tell me what you need.” This is the subtle bondage of approval. Ahab’s court exists wherever truth becomes negotiable in exchange for access.
3. How Jesus Has Done for Us What We Could Not Do
Into that same world of flattery and fear, Jesus came as the faithful Prophet. He spoke truth to power with mercy and courage. He stood before Pilate and said, “For this reason I was born: to bear witness to the truth.” His obedience carried Him to the cross.
In His death He bore the weight of our timidity and deceit. In His resurrection He opened the way for truth to live again in His people. The Word that once came to Micaiah now stands risen, full of grace and truth, interceding for pastors and leaders who have faltered. He gives His Spirit—the Spirit of truth—to make new voices that echo His own.
4. How, in Christ, We Can Do What God Requires
Because Christ has spoken faithfully, His people can now speak with freedom. The same Spirit that filled Him fills us. The gospel grants courage to proclaim what is already written, even when the crowd or the powerful prefer another tune.
Measure every word by the prior Word. Scripture alone sets the plumb line. The Spirit uses the text to search and steady us. The church’s confessions serve as humble, revisable guides under that text. Because our hearts twist the truth, we return again and again to Scripture in repentance and renewal.
Listen for unanimity that flatters power. When every Christian voice in a political season praises the same leader or cause, discern whether the church has traded prophetic witness for cultural influence.
Remember that Providence uses fitting means. The very patterns we choose—silence, approval, alignment—can become God’s discipline. A church that pursues influence may be judged through its own success; a preacher who seeks applause may find that applause empty. Grace still remains: repentance recovers clarity, and honesty recovers peace.
5. The Word That Rules the Church
The conviction that Scripture governs every other voice runs deep in the church’s story. The early fathers and the Reformers linked prophetic courage to this same conviction: God’s Word rules the church, never the reverse.
Athanasius trusted the plain clarity of Scripture when emperors demanded silence; the Nicene Creed arose because he believed the Word had already spoken.
Augustine taught that councils and teachers can err, but the Word cannot.
The Reformers—Calvin, Luther, and Bucer— stood on this ground. Calvin, commenting on Micaiah, borrowed Augustine’s phrase Scripture interprets itself and urged pastors to “speak from the mouth of God, not from human agreement.”
The Westminster Confession of Faith (1.10) captures this Reformed inheritance:
“The supreme judge by which all controversies of religion are to be determined … can be no other but the Holy Spirit speaking in the Scripture.”
This same conviction beats within Micaiah’s courage. Four hundred prophets had consensus; he had revelation. The Spirit speaking through the written Word remains the measure of every pulpit and every age. Whenever the church returns to that throne and that voice, the living God renews His people’s courage to speak truth and mercy in their own generation.
A Closing Word
Ahab’s court is not ancient history. It reappears whenever the church’s prophets begin to sound like the king’s counselors. The throne of heaven still rules, and the Word still speaks. God calls pastors and leaders to serve that throne with the same faithfulness that kept Micaiah standing before Ahab.
The cross reminds us that the throne above every throne is already occupied. From that throne comes both mercy and truth. When we speak from that place—free from flattery and fear—the gospel again sounds like good news: clear, strong, and full of grace. The same Word who whispered to Elijah in the quiet still speaks today, inviting His servants to speak with the freedom of those who already belong to Him.
“I Do Not Count My Psyche as Precious” —Zoe, Psyche, and Bios in the Life and Ministry We Receive from Jesus
—By Michael A. Graham
Section 1: Introduction
This essay began during the final days of my pastoral ministry at New Life Vicenza, a small international congregation near the U.S. military base in northern Italy. I was preparing to preach my final sermon there, and I returned to a passage I had preached before: Acts 20:17–38. These are Paul’s last words to the elders in Ephesus. The tone is affectionate, serious, and filled with gospel clarity. It was the passage I needed for the moment I was in.
As I studied Acts 20:24, one word caught my attention with unusual weight. Paul says, “I do not account my life of any value to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus.” Most English translations render the word as “life.” But in Greek, Paul uses ψυχή (psyche) — a word more often translated as “soul” or “self.” The line can be read this way: “I do not account my psyche — my inner self — as precious to me.”
That word reframed the sermon. And it reshaped my understanding of the passage.
Psyche carries the meaning of the emotional, volitional, and relational self. It includes memory, desire, identity, affection, and vulnerability. When Paul speaks this word, he places that entire dimension of his life into the hands of God. He entrusts his deepest interior self to Christ in order to finish his course. This surrender expresses freedom and trust. Paul speaks as someone who lives from a life greater than his own inner capacity.
This use of the word psyche raises a broader biblical question: how does Scripture speak about life?
In Acts 20:24, nearly every English translation — from the King James Version to the most recent editions — translates ψυχή as “life,” even though the same word is often rendered “soul” elsewhere in the New Testament. In fact, ψυχή is the Greek word commonly used to translate the Hebrew נֶפֶשׁ (nephesh), which refers to the soul or inner person throughout the Old Testament. This variation in translation opens the way to consider how the New Testament uses different Greek words to speak about life. Alongside the occasional use of psyche translated as life, the New Testament typically uses ζωή (zoe) — divine, eternal life — and βίος (bios) — physical, material life. All three appear in distinct contexts, and each reveals something about how Scripture understands human life and the human person.
When Paul uses psyche in a verse translated as “life,” he necessarily invites a deeper reflection on what kind of life Paul is surrendering — and what kind of life enables that surrender.
Paul lives by zoe — divine life received from Christ. Zoe flows from the grace of God and fills the soul with strength. It governs the psyche and sustains the body. Zoe enters the world as gift of God and the presence of Christ. It enables real people to endure suffering, walk in holiness, carry responsibility, and give themselves away in love. This Zoe life begins and increases under grace. It forms people of faith for faithfulness.
Paul speaks from zoe life in verse 24 when he talks about psyche and he speaks toward zoe again in verse 32, where he says, “I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up.” These two verses are central and summative for Paul’s pastoral theology. They speak of a life received, a ministry entrusted, and a church sustained.
This essay reflects on that theology. It also aims to clarify how the categories of zoe, psyche, and bios offer a biblical and pastoral framework for understanding the gospel, the human person, and faithful ministry. These terms arise directly from Scripture. They speak to the real pressures people face in life, emotion, and calling. And they lead us back to grace.
Section 2: The Word Paul Chose – ψυχή in Acts 20:24
Paul’s language in Acts 20:24 deserves careful attention. The sentence reads:
“But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus…”
In Greek, the key phrase is:
οὐδενὸς λόγου ποιοῦμαι τὴν ψυχὴν τιμίαν ἐμαυτῷ
“I consider my ψυχή as having no value to myself…”
English translations consistently render ψυχή here as “life.”
The ESV, NIV, NASB, KJV, NRSV, and CSB all translate the verse similarly: “I do not account my life as dear to myself.”
This translation flows naturally from the context, yet Paul’s word choice conveys something more specific. He does not use ζωή (zoe) — divine, eternal life. He does not use βίος (bios) — material, physical life. He uses ψυχή (psyche) — a word more often translated elsewhere as “soul” or “self.”
Paul is referring to the inner life — the emotional, volitional, and relational self. This word psyche speaks of identity, longing, memory, affection, fear, and desire. Psyche captures what we often mean by the word “soul,” and sometimes even “personhood.” It names the part of a person that carries meaning, conscience, vulnerability, imagination, and joy. This is the seat of the self.
When Paul says he does not consider his psyche as precious to himself, he reveals the location of his surrender in these verses to the elders at Miletus.
Paul entrusts his physical life, his public identity, and the deepest interior dimensions of his person — the soul he inhabits every moment of the day — into the hands of Christ. This act expresses dependence and assurance. Paul speaks as one who places his entire life under grace in order to finish the course set before him.
This word choice opens a question that presses on modern experience:
What does it mean to live in a world where the psyche has become sacred, and then hear Paul say, “I do not account my psyche as precious to myself”?
Paul surrenders what many today feels compelled to preserve at any cost. He gives away what modern culture encourages people to protect, curate, and prioritize. And he does so in the service of a ministry he received from Jesus.
Paul’s choice of psyche also opens a forward-facing window into the modern world.
In classical Greek usage, psyche referred to the self — the inner being, the seat of thought, feeling, perception, and will.
That meaning carries into the New Testament, where psyche often parallels the Hebrew נֶפֶשׁ (nephesh), yet still retains its own Greek resonance.
In our time, the language of psyche continues to shape how people interpret their identity.
Psychological experience often defines the self. Feelings shape meaning. Emotional regulation serves as moral vision. Mental health carries the weight of salvation.
Paul’s words speak into this world with enduring clarity. Paul is able to entrust his deepest psyche life — because his psyche and bios life already rests secure in God’s zoe life.
Paul’s surrender flows from confidence in God’s care, and that confidence continues to speak powerfully into an modern and post modern and post-post-modern age of violence where the inner life is expected to carry everything.
This sentence in Acts 20:24 is a personal declaration. Paul entrusts the most vulnerable and personal part of himself to the God who gave him life and ministry. He offers his soul with joy. And in doing so, he bears witness to the kind of life that sustains ministry under grace.
Section 3: Context Determines Meaning – Why Psyche in Acts 20:24 Bears the Weight We Give It
Some readers might wonder whether too much weight is being placed on a single word — the Greek word ψυχή (psyche) — especially when it is translated as “life” in Acts 20:24 alongside other New Testament words like ζωή (zoe) and βίος (bios).
This concern arises from a long history of thoughtful interpreters warning against the “word study fallacy” — the mistake of building theology on etymology or lexicons instead of context.
This concern deserves attention. But the strength of this interpretation comes from the passage itself. The weight given to psyche in this essay arises not from lexical speculation but from Paul’s deliberate choice of the word within a highly emotional, personal, and theological moment — one filled with clarity, farewell, tears, and exhortation.
Paul could have used bios to refer to his physical life. He could have used zoe to describe the divine life he had received from Christ. Instead, he uses psyche — a word that refers to the inner self: the relational, emotional, volitional center of a person.
English translators render it “life,” which fits the structure of the sentence. But Paul’s original word choice opens a richer window into the dimensions of what he is surrendering.
This claim is supported not only by the immediate sentence but by the entire passage of Acts 20:17–38. Paul is not simply stating that he values the mission more than his physical safety. He is describing a full surrender of the whole person — his identity, affections, burdens, and calling — into the hands of Christ.
In Acts 20:19, he speaks of serving the Lord with tears and trials. In verse 22, he says he is going to Jerusalem “constrained by the Spirit”, not knowing what awaits him, except that imprisonment and afflictions lie ahead. In verse 31, he reminds the elders that he “did not cease night or day to admonish everyone with tears.” And in verse 36–38, he kneels with them, prays, embraces, and weeps with them.
This entire speech is suffused with personal affection, theological conviction, and vocational surrender. Paul is not making an abstract theological claim. He is offering his soul to people and to the Lord. His word choice — psyche — perfectly fits the atmosphere and direction of the moment. The context gives the word its meaning.
This approach is also supported by scholars such as A.T. Robertson, who in his Word Pictures in the New Testament, warns against over-pressing distinctions between certain Greek terms (like those for love), but emphasizes the meaningful distinctions between the New Testament words for life.
Robertson affirms that zoe, bios, and psyche carry distinct shades of meaning, especially when authors like Paul use them intentionally in emotionally charged, doctrinally rich moments.
Paul’s use of psyche in Acts 20:24 stands at the intersection of surrender and grace. He is offering up the self that carries identity, longing, affection, weariness, memory, and love. And he is doing so freely, not from detachment, but from fullness — because his psyche is already held secure in zoe.
The life Paul surrenders is the inner life. The ministry he finishes is the one Christ gave him. The grace that sustains him is the same grace that now builds others. The word psyche becomes a window — not into abstraction or overreach, but into the very soul of the passage.
Section 4: Word and Soul – ψυχή in the Bible and Its Distinction from Spirit
I. Why This Matters
Acts 20:24 hinges on a precise word: ψυχή (psyche).
English translations often render it as “life,” but the word points to something more specific: the inner self, commonly referred to as the soul.
To understand Paul’s statement, it is important to understand what Scripture means by psyche — and how it relates to or differs from another key biblical word, πνεῦμα (pneuma), which is most often translated “spirit.”
II. The Old Testament Word for Soul – נֶפֶשׁ (Nephesh)
—Appears approximately 750 times in the Hebrew Bible
—Translated in various ways: “soul,” “life,” “self,” “creature,” “desire,” “mind”
—Used to describe:
• The whole self (Genesis 2:7 – “a living soul”)
• Emotional and mental distress (Psalm 42:5 – “Why are you cast down, O my soul?”)
• Appetite and longing (Deuteronomy 12:20 – “When your soul longs to eat meat…”)
Nephesh includes both the felt interior life and the individual self in relationship to God and others. It is personal, emotional, and deeply integrated with the human experience.
III. The New Testament Word for Soul – ψυχή (Psyche)
—Appears approximately 105 times in the Greek New Testament
—Translates the concept of nephesh into Greek
—Commonly translated as “soul,” but also rendered as “life” in some contexts
—Carries the meaning of:
• Selfhood and identity (Luke 12:19 – “Soul, you have ample goods laid up…”)
• Emotional and spiritual capacity (Luke 1:46 – “My soul magnifies the Lord”)
• The inner self in danger or distress (Matthew 10:28 – “Fear Him who can destroy both soul and body…”)
In many cases, psyche functions as the most human and intimate part of a person — the inner life where thoughts, desires, griefs, and joys reside.
IV. The New Testament Word for Spirit – πνεῦμα (Pneuma)
—Appears approximately 380 times in the New Testament
—Translated as “Spirit,” “spirit,” “breath,” or “wind” depending on the context
—Used to refer to:
• The Holy Spirit (Luke 4:1)
• The human spirit (1 Corinthians 2:11 – “the spirit of the man”)
• The spiritual dimension of a person oriented toward God
Pneuma speaks to the part of a person that communes with God — the place of conviction, conscience, and worship. It is the God-ward faculty, where spiritual life takes root and where the presence of the Holy Spirit gives strength and clarity.
V. Two Major Views of Human Composition in Christian Theology
1. Tripartite View – Body, Soul, and Spirit
This view holds that human beings are composed of three distinct but related elements:
—Soma (body) — the physical, embodied life
—Psyche (soul) — the emotional, volitional, and relational center
—Pneuma (spirit) — the place of spiritual communion with God
Scriptural support includes:
—1 Thessalonians 5:23 — “spirit, soul, and body”
—Hebrews 4:12 — “dividing soul and spirit…”
This view appears in the writings of some early church fathers, in the work of Watchman Nee, in parts of Reformed pastoral theology, and in certain evangelical frameworks. It emphasizes functional distinctions between the soul and the spirit while affirming their essential unity within the person.
2. Dichotomist View – Material and Immaterial (or Body and Spirit)
This view teaches that human beings consist of two essential components:
—Body (soma)
—Spirit/soul (used interchangeably to refer to the immaterial self)
In this understanding, psyche and pneuma describe different aspects of the same immaterial essence rather than separate faculties.
Support for this view includes:
—Many passages where “soul” and “spirit” appear to be used interchangeably
—The emphasis in Hebraic thought on wholeness rather than fragmentation
This view has been favored by theologians such as Calvin and Bavinck and is common in many strands of Reformed theology. It emphasizes the unity of the person before God while recognizing the layered complexity of the human interior life.
VI. Why This Matters in Acts 20:24
Paul’s use of ψυχή (psyche) in Acts 20:24 is exact and deeply personal. He offers not only his physical safety (bios) but his inner self — the seat of his relationships, his emotions, his thoughts, and his sense of calling.
This kind of surrender reveals depth. Paul is not operating with detachment or aloofness. He is giving his life to the ministry Christ gave him, from the inside out. His use of psyche communicates emotional honesty and spiritual clarity. He has received zoe, and that divine life anchors his soul. Because psyche is secure in zoe, Paul can pour out his life freely in love, in presence, and in ministry.
Section 5: The Collapse of Zoe in the Modern West
To understand the weight of Paul’s surrender in Acts 20:24, it helps to consider the wider theological and cultural backdrop.
Scripture presents zoe — the divine, unshakable life of God — as the foundation of Christian faith and ministry. Paul lives from this life. It grounds his identity, shapes his calling, and sustains his soul.
In the modern West, however, zoe has faded from view. The transcendent world once assumed by generations of believers has grown distant. Divine life has not disappeared, but it has been pushed to the margins of culture. The result is a quiet but steady shift: what once stood at the center has been displaced.
This displacement did not happen instantly. It unfolded across centuries, carried by ideas, institutions, and movements.
The Enlightenment emphasized reason and autonomy. Secular humanism sought to define humanity on its own terms. Scientific materialism prioritized the measurable world. Each of these movements gradually altered the modern imagination.
Over time, the West began to see reality through what philosopher Charles Taylor calls “the immanent frame.” This way of seeing the world assumes that everything meaningful can be found within the material universe. Heaven remains an idea, but the functional horizon is closed. In this framework, transcendence no longer carries weight. Zoe becomes optional, and the divine life once seen as essential fades into abstraction.
Yet the human longing for life remains. People still hunger for meaning, joy, purpose, connection, and hope. The need does not vanish. It shifts its focus.
When zoe is displaced, something else rises to take its place. That replacement often begins with bios — the material life of the body, the world of strength, survival, work, health, and control.
In modernity, bios becomes the field of promise. Life becomes a project of mastery. People look to medicine, science, systems, and technology to solve the problem of death, to extend life, to relieve pain, and to create comfort.
This reliance on bios shapes culture in visible ways. Productivity becomes a moral good. Efficiency becomes a value. Comfort becomes a goal. Control becomes a virtue. Success becomes a marker of worth. The body becomes a canvas for identity and expression. The modern vision of life turns outward — toward what can be measured, improved, and maintained.
But bios alone cannot sustain the weight of the soul. The human person was made for more than health, efficiency, and productivity.
When bios carries the full burden of meaning, the soul begins to fracture. The person becomes tired. The body works in ways the soul cannot celebrate. The longing for transcendence re-emerges, not always as faith, but often as that stab of inconsolable longing.
At that point, the modern self turns inward. When the world of bios no longer satisfies, culture looks not beyond, but within.
This turning marks the next phase of the story — a deeper attempt to recover life by curating the soul.
Section 6: The Religion of Self — Act 1: Bios Life
When zoe fades from the cultural imagination, bios rises to take its place. In this shift, the human person begins to seek life through the physical, material, and biological world. The self turns outward — toward strength, skill, progress, and control.
This modern turn toward bios finds expression in technology, medicine, economics, education, and industry. The Enlightenment vision cast human beings as rational and powerful. With enough knowledge, effort, and coordination, people believed they could build a better world fueled by the idea of human evolution and survival of the fittest. In this vision, life could be improved without reference to God. Redemption would come through innovation. Salvation would arrive through progress.
This view became its own kind of religion — a deeply held faith in the material world and in the power of human reason. It offered an implicit gospel, complete with its own version of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration:
—Creation = Matter emerges through natural process and evolves toward higher forms.
—Sin = Disorder, ignorance, environment, inefficiency, or disease blocks human flourishing.
—Salvation = Mastery over nature, achieved through scientific discovery, technological advancement, and social reform.
—Sanctification = Optimization, productivity, personal discipline, and physical health.
—Eschatology = A future of sustained improvement — a world continually advancing toward comfort, safety, and success.
Within this framework, the self remains sovereign. The person does not yield to divine Zoe life but draws power from within or from systems designed to serve individual goals. Bios becomes both a field of exploration and a tool for self-realization. The body is strengthened. The environment is controlled. The world becomes a stage for human achievement and moral improvement.
This bios-centered vision inspires much of modern culture. School systems form minds for competition. Workplaces prize output. Health industries promise longevity. Advertising shapes desire. Even relationships often form around shared achievement or lifestyle. The message is clear: life becomes meaningful when it becomes successful.
For a season, this approach offers momentum. The world does improve in many ways. Disease is reduced. Poverty is addressed. Opportunities expand. The body is preserved and strengthened. These are good gifts, and they bring real benefit. But the soul still asks deeper questions.
Over time, the religion of bios begins to show its limits. The self grows weary of carrying the weight of self-justification. The body begins to age. Progress fails to satisfy. Moments of success arrive, but the heart often feels empty. The person achieves more, but rejoices less. Deep down, many realize that this kind of life — for all its efficiency — cannot nourish the soul.
The project of bios begins to falter. The world has been improved, but the inner life remains unresolved. At that point, the modern person turns inward again — not to transcendence, but to introspection. The next chapter begins with a new promise: life will be found through the healing of the inner self.
Section 7: The Religion of Self — Act 2: Psyche Life
When bios no longer satisfies the soul, the search for life turns inward. The next attempt to restore wholeness begins not through mastery over the world, but through the cultivation of the inner self. In this second movement, the self becomes the center, and the psyche becomes sacred.
This inward turn shapes the modern age. People no longer trust progress alone to bring peace or joy. Instead, they begin to look for meaning within their own emotional experience, personal narrative, and psychological health. The self becomes the authority. Feelings establish identity. Inner alignment becomes the definition of truth.
This marks the rise of what has been called expressive individualism and the therapeutic culture. The goal is no longer to improve the world but to understand and heal the inner self. The person is encouraged to explore desires, uncover wounds, speak personal truth, and create space for self-expression. The vocabulary of soul care becomes central to everyday life.
Common phrases reflect this shift:
• “Honor your feelings.”
• “Speak your truth.”
• “Protect your peace.”
• “Set healthy boundaries.”
• “Do the inner work.”
• “Practice self-care.”
These ideas reflect a real need. People carry pain, confusion, trauma, and grief. The search for healing is honest. The soul longs to be seen, known, and restored. In many ways, this therapeutic movement reflects a longing for redemption.
But this system also becomes its own theology. The modern vision of life, centered in the self, forms a functional gospel — one that shapes meaning and purpose:
—Creation = “I am my own.” The self is original, autonomous, and worthy.
—Sin = “I feel shame, repression, misalignment, or inherited pain.”
—Salvation = “I find healing, authenticity, self-expression, and affirmation.”
—Sanctification = “I commit to continual therapy, self-discovery, and emotional growth.”
—Eschatology = “I reach inner peace, wholeness, and harmony with myself.”
In this gospel of psyche, the self remains sovereign. The journey becomes a search for coherence — a return to the truest version of oneself. Others may help, but no one defines. The person becomes author and healer. Emotional safety becomes a moral requirement. Validation becomes a sacrament. The interior world becomes the seat of truth and meaning.
This movement brings clarity to much of modern life. Education affirms identity. Social media amplifies narrative. Relationships focus on mutual validation. Institutions and churches feel pressure to accommodate the felt needs of the soul. In this cultural moment, to challenge someone’s inner world often feels like harm, and to affirm it feels like love.
Still, the weight remains. Even after seasons of insight and growth, the self remains restless. The therapeutic project carries real value, but it cannot carry eternity. It names the ache but cannot satisfy it. The soul needs more than self-awareness and affirmation. The soul needs life.
The inward turn leads people closer to their pain and longing, but it does not lead them to grace. The desire to be whole runs deep. The person continues to reach, still hoping to be found. And that longing creates the opening for something older and greater: the voice of divine love, the promise of grace, and the reality of zoe.
Section 8: Why Paul’s Words in Acts 20:24 Are So Astonishing Today
In our time, the inner self carries immense weight. The language of emotional safety, mental health, trauma, self-expression, and boundaries has become part of daily life. The culture affirms people not only for what they believe, but for what they feel and how they define themselves. In this world, the inner life becomes sacred.
Many people build their daily choices around protecting the psyche. Feelings shape decisions. Emotional energy sets the terms of engagement. The self must be preserved, supported, and affirmed. Any form of rejection, misalignment, or exposure can feel like a threat to survival.
In this atmosphere, Paul’s words in Acts 20:24 sound entirely different:
“I do not account my psyche as precious to myself…”
Paul’s statement does not come from detachment or emotional distance. It flows from security. He speaks as someone who has already entrusted his deepest self to the care of Christ. He is not disregarding his inner life. He is offering it freely, because he knows where it rests.
This is not resignation. This is love. Paul does not avoid pain, but walks into it. He does not protect his soul from sorrow, but entrusts it to grace. He does not curate his identity for safety, but places it under the care of the One who gave it. His words reveal freedom — the kind of freedom that comes from knowing whose you are, not just who you are.
Modern people often speak of the importance of living in alignment with the self. Paul speaks of something deeper: living in union with Christ. His psyche is not neglected. It is held. It is nourished. It is led. Because Paul lives from zoe, he can offer psyche. He entrusts his inner world not to systems of self-care, but to the grace of the Lord Jesus.
This also reframes the language of experience. In many places, personal narrative functions as authority. Lived experience sets the terms of truth. Paul does not erase his story. He carries it. He names his tears, his trials, his years of service, and his coming hardship. But he offers that story to Christ. His experience finds its place within a larger story — one written by grace and guided by the Spirit.
Paul does not demand affirmation. He gives love. He does not seek emotional safety. He trusts a deeper security. His soul no longer sits at the center. It rests in communion with God and is offered in service to others. This makes his surrender both clear and beautiful.
This freedom invites others to follow. The soul can rest. The self can step forward. The person can live, love, and lead without carrying the entire weight of the world. Because zoe remains, psyche can be given. And in that giving, the person becomes whole.
Section 9: Zoe Comes First – The Life That Leads to Ministry
Paul continues in Acts 20:24 with these words:
“…if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus.”
The order in Paul’s statement matters. He first speaks of the life he entrusts to God — his psyche — and then of the ministry he aims to complete. Paul does not create this ministry or strive to earn it. He receives it. And the strength to walk in it flows from the zoe he already possesses in Christ.
Ministry begins with grace. The course Paul runs is not of his own making. It was given to him by the risen Lord. That gift defines his path and sustains his effort. Paul ministers because he has already received zoe — divine life that anchors the soul and carries the body. His identity, calling, and capacity grow from the life of Christ at work within him.
Scripture speaks of life in multiple dimensions:
Zoe — the eternal, divine life given by God through union with Christ
Psyche — the inner life of memory, emotion, desire, and relational identity
Bios — the embodied life of action, labor, presence, and physical existence
All three matter. But only one governs. Zoe brings clarity and strength to the others. It does not compete with psyche or bios. It places them in order and infuses them with grace. The divine life does not suppress the soul or the body. It renews and reorients both.
This vision of life shapes Paul’s understanding of ministry. He does not prove himself through self-effort. He does not build a platform to secure identity. He does not organize his soul to produce results. He receives a trust, walks in that trust, and pours out his life in love.
This speaks directly to the calling of every believer. Ministry is not a project designed to define the self. It is a grace that flows from communion with Christ. Those who receive zoe receive the capacity to give. They serve with strength drawn from divine presence. They endure with joy drawn from divine promise.
This also shapes the pastoral reality of the local church. The weight of ministry does not fall on human energy alone. The strength comes from zoe — life from God, anchored in Christ, and sustained by the Spirit. In this strength, believers can entrust their psyche to grace and offer their bios in service. They walk with humility, courage, and resilience because the life that sustains them remains steady.
This is why Paul can say, “I do not shrink back…” (v.20). He does not speak from ambition or emotional force. He speaks from confidence in the One who gave him the course. And that same confidence appears again in verse 32:
“I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up…”
Paul does not build alone. He trusts the grace of God to build the church, to strengthen the people, and to carry the mission forward. He lives by zoe — and so he gives ministry away freely, in full confidence that God will continue the work He began.
Section 10: Jack Miller’s Five Gospel Facts and the Recovery of Zoe
When Paul says, “I do not account my psyche as precious to myself,” he speaks from deep security. His surrender flows from love. The soul he offers belongs to Christ. His body follows because his life flows from another source.
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live (Zoe), but Christ who lives (Zoe) in me. And the life (Zoe) I now live (Zoe) in the flesh I live (Zoe) by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20 ESV).
Paul lives by zoe — divine life, received by grace and expressed through love.
This life defines the gospel. Jesus describes it as “abundant life” (John 10:10) and “eternal life” (John 3:16).
Zoe life brings communion with the Father, renewal of the soul, and restoration of the body.
Zoe draws people into the life and love of God — and sends them out in grace to serve others.
Pastor and author Jack Miller captured this dynamic in his booklet A New Life, where he outlines five gospel facts.
These are not steps or slogans. They form a gospel-centered framework for understanding the Christian life. Each fact shows how Zoe life is lost, how it is recovered, and how it flows outward in love and service.
Fact 1 – God Sent Jesus to Give Us Zoe
The gospel begins with the love of God. “A loving God sent His Son Jesus into the world to bring you a new and abundant life.”
This life is zoe — divine, indestructible, and freely given. Jesus says:
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal (Zoe) life.”
— John 3:16
And again:
“I came that they may have (Zoe) life and have it abundantly.”
— John 10:10
Zoe is life shaped by the love of the Father, carried by the presence of the Son, and poured out by the Spirit.
Zoe life brings people into communion with God and awakens love for others.
To receive Zoe life is to be drawn into the eternal life and love of God — and to be sent into the world with the same life and love we have received.
That is the ministry Paul has received that enables him to surrender his lesser though important psyche and bios life.
Fact 2 – We Lose That Life When We Center On Ourselves
The human heart was made for God. But the story of humanity reveals a different pattern: a turn inward.
People exchange communion with God for self-reliance, and the result is separation from zoe.
Jack Miller A New Life booklet puts it plainly: “People are self-centered, not God-centered.”
Scripture speaks to this condition:
“You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world…”
— Ephesians 2:1
The soul continues to seek meaning, but it bends toward control and autonomy.
The self becomes the center, and the weight of life begins to press inward.
Zoe life slips away, not because God has ceased to offer it, but because the heart has turned from the Author and Source of all life and love.
Fact 3 – A Bad Record, a Bad Heart, and a Bad Master
The result of centering life on ourselves is described by three barriers that keep people from enjoying zoe:
A bad record brings guilt and shame before God and others
A bad heart shapes thoughts, words, and actions
A bad master — the world, the flesh, and the Devil rules the life apart from grace
Each of these has a scriptural foundation:
Bad Record — “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23)
Bad Heart — “From within, out of the heart… come evil thoughts.” (Mark 7:21)
Bad Master — “Everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin.” (John 8:34)
These realities shape both psyche and bios. The conscience feels the burden. The soul shrinks under shame. The body strains under effort. Ministry becomes a task of self-justification. Joy gives way to pressure. Love gives way to fear. The self labors to build a life that only God can give.
Fact 4 – In Christ, the Barriers Are Removed
Jesus enters the world not to condemn but to save. He brings zoe with Him — not as an idea, but as a person. In Christ, each of the barriers is addressed:
A perfect record is given — “Christ… is made our righteousness.” (1 Corinthians 1:30)
A new heart is promised — “A new heart I will give you.” (Ezekiel 36:25–26)
A good master invites you to rest — “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28–30)
The gospel reaches the entire person. The past is forgiven. The soul is renewed. The will is reoriented. The self finds rest under the gentle rule of Christ. In His love, zoe enters and reshapes life from the inside out.
Fact 5 – We Receive This Life by Faith and Repentance.
Faith and repentance are not conditions to fulfill. They are responses to grace — expressions of trust and surrender. “You receive Christ by faith and repentance. That’s how you begin. That’s how you continue.”
Scripture makes this clear:
“Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved.” (Acts 16:31)
“Let the wicked forsake his way… let him return to the Lord… and He will abundantly pardon.” (Isaiah 55:7)
“As you received Christ Jesus, so walk in Him.” (Colossians 2:6)
Faith trusts the love of God. Repentance turns toward that love. Together they describe the movement of the heart into life. The soul receives what it could never produce. The person steps into grace and finds strength to walk.
Zoe Reorders Life Through Love
Jack Miller’s five gospel facts describe the recovery of life. They also describe the movement of love. Through the gospel:
Zoe governs — divine life brings order, security, and joy
Psyche is renewed — the soul finds rest, meaning, and freedom
Bios is aligned — the body lives with purpose, presence, and hope
Zoe does more than restore. Zoe life, like God’s own life is God-centered and other-centered. It sends out in the love it has received in Christ. Divine love draws the person in and then leads them out — into ministry, into relationships, and into freedom. The soul no longer carries the weight of the world. It walks in grace and risks giving itself in love.
This is the life Paul carries in Acts 20. He receives zoe. He entrusts his psyche. He offers his bios in service. His surrender rises from grace. His obedience flows from love. His life bears the marks of joy rooted in divine strength.
This is the hope that continues. Christ gives His life. The Father pours out His love. The Spirit fills the soul. And the gospel forms a people whose ministry flows from zoe — grounded in grace and overflowing with love.
Section 11: The Whole Counsel of God – A Related Research Note and Word of Caution
As we consider with Paul the ministry we have received from the Lord, I returned to Acts 20 and found myself drawn to the phrase “the whole counsel of God” in verse 27. Paul says to the elders,
“I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.”
This phrase stands alongside three others in the passage. Each describes Paul’s ministry from a different angle, and together they form a rich picture of gospel faithfulness:
1. “The gospel of the grace of God” (v.24)
“…the ministry I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.”
2. “The kingdom of God” (v.25)
“…among whom I have gone about proclaiming the kingdom.”
3. “All the counsel of God” (v.27)
“For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.”
4. “Repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ” (v.21)
These are not separate doctrines. They are different windows into the same reality — the ministry Paul received from Christ and faithfully shared with the church. Each phrase emphasizes something distinct:
—The content: the grace of God and the kingdom
—The scope: all the counsel of God
—The effect: repentance and faith
—The source: Christ Himself
These expressions function together. Paul cannot proclaim the kingdom apart from grace. He does not call for repentance without holding out Christ. And when he speaks of the whole counsel of God, he speaks from the fullness of what has been revealed in Jesus.
In my own Reformsd theological circles, “the whole counsel of God” becomes a slogan — used to emphasize doctrinal balance, methodological rigor, or systematic coverage of Scripture.
Some define it as preaching every text, book by book, with equal weight. Others use it to urge balance between law and gospel, justification and sanctification, or biblical theology and systematics.
These concerns matter. Balance matters. Doctrine matters. But Paul is not describing a method. He is describing a ministry. He is not just laying out an expository philosophy. He is summarizing a life of gospel witness.
Throughout the passage, Paul emphasizes presence, tears, warnings, teaching, sacrifice, and trust. His life has been poured out among the people. The whole counsel of God is not a formula. It is a lived expression of gospel clarity and fullness — centered in Christ and offered in grace.
This is consistent with how Paul speaks elsewhere:
“…the mystery of His will… to unite all things in Him.” (Ephesians 1:9–10)
“…we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” (2 Corinthians 4:5)
“…to make the word of God fully known… Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:25–27)
The whole counsel of God refers to the fullness of what God has revealed — from creation to covenant, from promise to fulfillment, from law to gospel, from Israel to the nations, and from death to resurrection. It holds together all that God has done, all that He has spoken, and all that He has accomplished in Christ.
This kind of ministry carries weight. And it also calls for clarity. When people use the phrase “whole counsel of God,” it helps to ask what they mean. Sometimes it is used:
—As a defense of a preferred method: “We preach verse by verse, so we preach the whole counsel.”
—As a silent standard: “If you are not emphasizing law and gospel balance every sermon, something is off.”
—As a warning: “You preach too much grace, too much mission, too much story, or not enough structure.”
Paul’s words invite a better vision. He is not guarding a system. He is giving himself in ministry. He is not offering theological categories in sequence. He is declaring the redemptive story centered in Christ — received by grace and passed on in love.
Jack Miller captures this dynamic well:
“Doctrinal soundness includes more than formal adherence to a right system of doctrine. It also must include wholeness, clear focus, and balance. It means the major doctrines are to be given their due as major doctrines, with secondary issues related to them in a way that shows the derivative character of these secondary matters. You might even say that balance means having the whole sweep of major doctrine in the foreground of one’s thinking. Seen in this light, then, theological error is in part at least permitting major Biblical truths to slip into the background of one’s thinking and practice.”
— C. John Miller, “Reflections on Faculty Discussion” (1977)
This is the vision Paul models. And this is the vision I have tried to follow in this essay. Not a perfect balance of every category, but a clear declaration of the central things — Christ crucified, the grace of God, and the unsearchable riches of His kingdom.
Section 12: Conclusion – The Ministry We Receive and the Life We Share
The words that opened this essay now return with deeper clarity and fuller meaning:
“I do not account my psyche as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus.”
— Acts 20:24
“I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified.”
— Acts 20:32
These two verses contain everything: Paul’s understanding of life, his vision of ministry, and his confidence in grace. In verse 24, he names what he carries — his inner life, his physical body, and the course set before him. In verse 32, he names what he gives — the people, the work, and the future. Between the two stands Christ. And through both, Paul lives from the zoe life he has received.
Life and ministry both begin with grace. Paul does not invent either. He receives both from Jesus — and he walks in them through faith. He entrusts his psyche to grace and offers his bios in service. He finishes the course not by self-preservation, but by self-giving love, rooted in the eternal life of God.
This vision shaped the final days of my time at New Life Vicenza. I stood between these same two verses. I gave thanks for the ministry Christ had entrusted to me. I named the life He had shared with us. And I handed those gifts forward to others — not as a burden to bear, but as a grace to carry. I commended the people to the word of God’s grace.
That grace still holds. It continues to build. It continues to give zoe. It continues to renew the soul and strengthen the body. It continues to call people into ministry and to sustain them in that call. The gospel does not fade. The Spirit does not weaken. The love of God remains steady.
Ministry continues because grace continues. And grace continues because Christ reigns.
The whole person — soul, body, identity — remains held in Him.
To live — Zoe life — is Christ.
To die is gain.
Because the life that began this journey still sustains it — and leads it home.
Grazie Mille! Our Final Update from Italy and Croatia
“God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
— Romans 5:5
Grazie mille (a thousand thanks).
This is our final update from Italy and Croatia. As we prepare to return to the U.S., what fills our hearts is simple: gratitude. God has poured out His love through the Holy Spirit. He has been faithful to us, to the church, and to all who have supported this work. We’ve had the privilege of living in two countries, learning from two cultures, and seeing the grace of Jesus meet people in very real ways.
Vicki returned to the U.S. on September 4, and I’ll return on September 15, after one final Sunday service and a farewell potluck on the 14th. These last weeks have brought many goodbyes. We have loved being here, and it’s hard to say goodbye. But we are thankful for what God has done and hopeful for what comes next — both for us and for the church.
Just a Little of What God Has Done
When we arrived at New Life Vicenza in early 2022, the church was very small. Over time, by God’s grace, the congregation has become a stable and growing gospel community. A member told me recently, “It really feels like a church now.” That simple statement captures the change we’ve seen — not just more people, but shared life in Christ.
In these last two Sundays:
We baptized two covenant children — Misha and Katya.
We baptized Ender, Remy, and Lucy by profession of faith.
We received Jordan into church membership.
This Sunday, we will receive Maggie and Marion Bruhl to the Lord’s Supper by profession of faith.
We will also install Joe Bruhl as a ruling elder.
These are just a few recent signs of how God has been at work among us — moving His church forward into the new and abundant life that is ours in Christ.
Over the past three months, the congregation has made important decisions about how to carry on the work. Leadership is now shared among several members:
Joe Bruhl will oversee teaching and preaching.
Jeff and Earnest will also teach.
Raul will manage finances.
JT and Val will coordinate logistics and hospitality.
Rick and Erica will manage the website and social media.
Lanette will work with JT on facilities.
Marijke will continue leading prayer.
Eliza and Katie are taking on music, worship folders, and slides.
Jackson will teach the Westminster Shorter Catechism to the children.
And there are others stepping into various roles and responsibilities that I have probably failed to mention.
Two PCA chaplains stationed at the base in Vicenza are willing to help when they have time and opportunity. We are also in conversation with two men who may consider coming to serve as pastor. The earliest either could arrive is summer 2026.
Temporary Life in Novigrad
Because we weren’t able to get residency in Italy, Vicki and I lived in Novigrad (Croatia) during our time here in Europe. It’s a small fishing town on the Adriatic Sea. From there, we drove to Vicenza every weekend — three hours when everything went smoothly, five or six hours when there were delays at the border or roadwork along the way.
It wasn’t always easy. Between travel, packing and unpacking, and the demands of living across two countries (with Slovenia in between), we lost nearly two full days every week to travel and transition. But Novigrad did become a home for us — a place of stability and peace. It reminded me of Bayou La Batre, where I grew up. It gave us rest, routine, and a rhythm of life that shaped these years.
It also gave me time to focus on writing. Over the past year, I’ve studied, written, and published a number of long-form essays for The Jack Miller Project — nearly 150,000 words since January 2025. You can find the master list at www.thejackmillerproject.com. I’m also working on a book titled Discovering Dad, which I hope to finish this year.
A Ministry We Received
This Sunday, I will preach my final sermon at New Life Vicenza from Acts 20, where Paul says:
“I do not account my life as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry I received from the Lord Jesus.”
That line captures the way I feel. This has never been our work — it was a ministry given to us. And though some have seen our time here as a sacrifice, it never felt like that. It has been a joy to serve, to walk with the church, and to live as recipients of God’s grace.
Paul goes on to say:
“And now I commend you to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up.”
We do the same. We’re leaving, but we are confident in the gospel and in the Spirit’s ability to carry New Life Vicenza forward.
Grateful to God
God has been kind to us. Through all the unknowns, He has led and provided. His love has come to us through the Spirit, through Scripture, and through His people.
We have seen His care in quiet ways — in meals shared, prayers offered, children baptized, and friendships formed. We’ve seen Him work through weakness. We’ve felt His mercy in moments of doubt. We have nothing in ourselves to boast in, but much to be thankful for as we boast in Christ and what He has done and is doing here in Italy.
We leave with gratitude for the love of Christ, poured into our hearts again and again.
Grateful to You
We are also thankful for you — those who have prayed for us, given financially, encouraged us, visited us, written us, and helped us keep going.
Because of your support, we were able to live and serve here for more than three years. Thank you.
My final paycheck will come this month. But I would ask you to consider giving through the end of the year — not for us, but for New Life Vicenza. The church is still financially vulnerable. Your support will help provide for the needs of the church during this interim period, including visiting pastors and ongoing ministry expenses.
Vicki is at our home in Mount Juliet, TN. When I return, we will begin the process of selling our home there as we look forward to where God calls us to next serve in gospel ministry.
We’ve made a lot of memories these past three-plus years. Some are small — like giving a bottle of rakija to Sonja, who cut my hair for years, and seeing her cry as we said goodbye. Others are larger — Sunday baptisms, potlucks, long drives, shared tears, and intimate prayers together and for one another. They are all part of what we take with us.
And I am thankful for Vicki. She has served the church, supported me, shared the gospel, and walked in grace. Through small apartments, long drives, and difficult weeks, she has been my partner. We have done this together.
We are not at the end of anything — only the final section of an amazing chapter God planned for us in Italy and Croatia. This has been part of the adventure of the Christian life — far from boring — and we are waiting with joy and trust to see what God has next.
The David in Florence, Italy (This is a replica. The original David was moved indoors)
David, Consecration, and the Greater King
— by Michael A. Graham
Introduction
This reflection began with my Bible reading this morning in 1 Samuel 21, where David—while fleeing Saul—requests the bread of the Presence from the priest.
From that reflection, an underlying principle came into sharper focus, a principle that runs through Scripture.
That principle reappears dramatically in David’s later sin with Bathsheba and is ultimately reframed by Jesus Himself, the Greater David.
1. David’s Claim in 1 Samuel 21:5
David says to Ahimelech:
“Truly women have been kept from us as always when I go on an expedition. The vessels of the young men are holy even when it is an ordinary journey. How much more today will their vessels be holy?”
David is claiming that he and his men are ritually clean—not just generally, but specifically in relation to sexual abstinence. He appeals to a known and accepted military practice: that during expeditions, men consecrate themselves through self-restraint. He even goes further, asserting that this pattern holds even for ordinary missions. In his view, that makes their claim to purity even stronger in this particular case.
His words present an image of discipline, devotion, and readiness. By saying his men are holy, David is not just talking about abstinence. He is pointing to a condition of spiritual focus and dedication that aligns with the sacred nature of their mission. The men are clean, the request is valid, and the bread of the Presence can be received with reverence.
But there is a deeper tension in the moment. David says he is on an expedition, yet he is actually fleeing Saul. He presents his cause in military terms, but he is in personal flight. He frames himself as a consecrated leader, but he is operating outside formal military authority. Though his claim about abstinence may be true, his overall presentation creates a discrepancy between what he appears to be and what he is. This gap between rhetoric and reality will widen over time. The David who once emphasized discipline and consecration will eventually depart from that very principle—and not by accident.
2. David’s Abandonment of the Principle in 2 Samuel 11
Years later, David finds himself in a very different position. Now he is the king. He has full authority, complete power, and a settled throne. And it is in that moment—when he should have led his people in battle—that he chooses to remain behind.
“In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab… But David remained at Jerusalem.” (2 Samuel 11:1)
This is the clearest turning point. The man who once spoke of the expectation of consecration during expeditions is now avoiding the expedition altogether. The discipline he once demanded has been replaced by distance. The self-restraint he once described has been displaced by self-indulgence. He stays home. He relaxes. He sees. He takes.
David’s failure is not limited to adultery with Bathsheba. It begins long before that moment—when he distances himself from the principle he once upheld. His body remains in Jerusalem, but his heart drifts from the consecration that had once shaped his leadership. He no longer speaks of abstinence, because he no longer holds to it. He no longer models discipline, because he no longer values it. What had once been a settled way of living in sacred times has now been set aside in favor of comfort, control, and secrecy.
This is what makes David’s exploitation of Bathsheba and his orchestration of Uriah’s death so grave. David’s betrayal is not just of a man, or of a woman, or even of his own marriage covenant. It is a betrayal of a principle he had once claimed to live by and called others to follow. His fall is not into weakness. It is into contradiction. He breaks the very standard he once used to justify access to the holy bread of God. That deep contradiction is not merely behavioral—it is covenantal. He introduces a deep fracture between who he claimed to be and who he became.
3. Uriah’s Integrity in 2 Samuel 11
Uriah, unaware of David’s actions, returns from the battlefield. David invites him to enjoy the comforts of home. But Uriah refuses:
“The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house, to eat and to drink and to lie with my wife?”
Uriah’s words echo the very principle David once affirmed. He understands what consecration requires. He honors it in practice. Even when given an opportunity to enjoy his wife, he holds to the discipline that marks those who are actively engaged in battle. His refusal to relax, to indulge, or to step out of line exposes the integrity of his heart. He lives by the standard David once spoke of, even when David does not.
This contrast is striking. Uriah is not a king. He is not a priest. He is not even an insider to David’s inner circle. But he embodies the discipline and consecration that David abandoned. His loyalty magnifies David’s betrayal. His restraint highlights David’s indulgence. His clarity reveals David’s confusion. Uriah lives out what David had once taught, and in doing so, he exposes the truth David worked so hard to conceal.
4. The Foundation of the Principle in the Torah
David’s claim in 1 Samuel 21, and Uriah’s behavior in 2 Samuel 11, both reflect a deeper pattern rooted in Israel’s understanding of holiness and readiness in times of war or sacred encounter. The Torah does not contain a direct command that soldiers must abstain from sex during battle, but the expectation is built into the logic of consecration.
Exodus 19:15 – “Be ready for the third day; do not go near a woman.”
Before Israel met God at Sinai, Moses instructed the people to abstain from sexual relations. This was not because sex is impure, but because meeting God required a complete setting apart of the body and heart.
Deuteronomy 23:9–10 – “When you are encamped against your enemies, then you shall keep yourself from every evil thing…”
The command goes on to specify that if a man becomes unclean during the night, he must leave the camp and purify himself before returning. Holiness within the camp was essential to victory and God’s presence.
Together, these passages establish the principle that certain moments require a deeper kind of focus, a sharper consecration. In times of holy encounter or warfare, God’s people were to guard their hearts and bodies with intentionality. Abstinence, vigilance, and discipline were part of that guarding of the heart.
David understood this. Uriah embodied it. And when David later ignored it, the consequences were not just personal but covenantal.
5. Jesus Refers to This Moment
In Mark 2, the Pharisees question Jesus because His disciples pluck grain on the Sabbath. Jesus responds by pointing back to David:
“Have you never read what David did, when he was in need and was hungry—he and those who were with him—how he entered the house of God… and ate the bread of the Presence?” (Mark 2:25–26)
Jesus is referencing the exact same moment from 1 Samuel 21. He names Abiathar as high priest, though the text in Samuel names Ahimelech. Abiathar was Ahimelech’s son and served as priest during David’s later reign, so Jesus is referring to the broader period—a common shorthand in Jewish storytelling.
Jesus does more than recall the story. He draws a comparison:
David received bread not normally allowed, because his need was real and his claim to consecration was sincere.
David was not condemned.
Jesus is not minimizing the law—He is drawing out its deeper purpose. The law was always meant to serve mercy, to protect what is holy, and to lead to communion with God. David’s need and claim to consecration placed him within that purpose. Jesus, as the greater David, brings an even deeper integrity. His righteousness is not ceremonial but complete, and His actions flow from that fullness.
Therefore, Jesus implies, His disciples—following Him, the true King—are also innocent in what they are doing.
Jesus doesn’t question David’s claim to holiness in 1 Samuel 21. He affirms it. He reminds the Pharisees that mercy and mission sometimes override formal ritual. His point is not to overturn the law, but to reveal its true purpose—communion with God and integrity of heart.
6. Jesus and the Expedition Principle
When Jesus refers to 1 Samuel 21, He doesn’t mention David’s words about expedition or abstinence. But those words are part of the story He invokes. David said his men were consecrated. He said they were on an expedition. He presented them as holy vessels, even in difficult and ordinary circumstances.
Jesus brings that whole moment forward. He sees in David a king caring for his men in a time of need. He sees men living with discipline and integrity. He sees a sacred moment when human need and holiness meet.
Jesus Himself lives this principle in fullness:
He moves with focus.
He walks in purity.
He consecrates Himself for the sake of others.
He holds nothing back—not comfort, not safety, not His own life.
Jesus embodies what David once described and what Uriah lived out. He is the consecrated King—not in a moment, but in His whole being.
7. Gospel Implications
David once honored the principle of consecration. Later, he walked away from it. He fell hard—not because he forgot the principle, but because he stopped living by it. His descent into sin with Bathsheba did not begin on the rooftop. It began when he chose to stay behind. It continued when he abandoned the standard he once required of his own men. It deepened when he abused Bathsheba and then attempted to deceive Uriah. It reached its lowest point when he arranged for Uriah’s death.
Yet David’s story does not end in despair. In Psalm 51, he returns—not as a king with authority, but as a man who has nothing left to hide. He asks for a clean heart. He asks for renewal. He names the truth of what he has become, and he casts himself on the mercy of God.
“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”
Jesus, the greater David, never abandoned the path of consecration. He walked it in fullness. He stayed the course. He chose the cross. He gave Himself for those who faltered, for those who abandoned the principle, and for those who broke the covenant. He gave Himself for David. He gives Himself for us.
Jesus expressed this even more clearly in His prayer the night before the cross: “For their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth” (John 17:19).
In Greek, both “consecrate” and “sanctify” come from the same word: ἁγιάζω—to set apart, to make holy, to dedicate entirely to God.
Jesus offers Himself to the Father as both the consecrated priest and the perfect offering. He enters fully into the holy purpose of God and brings His people into that holiness with Him. His obedience creates a pathway for others to walk in truth. Through His consecration, we receive sanctification. Through His fullness, we enter into the life He shares with the Father. His act of consecration accomplishes substitution and leads to restoration, gathering His people into the truth and beauty of holiness.
The One who lived in full consecration welcomes those who have wandered. He restores the broken. He gathers the ashamed. He redeems the story. His faithfulness becomes our covering. His purity becomes our peace. His death brings us home.
From God’s Gospel to My Gospel: The Preached Word and the Revealed Mystery
— By Michael A. Graham
Introduction
Someone recently pressed me with a question about how modern preaching differs from what Paul means by “preaching.” I didn’t take up the challenge at the time. But as I’ve been working through Romans 16:21–27, the challenge found me.
Romans begins in chapter 1 with Paul calling it “the gospel of God” (1:1). By the end, in 16:25, he calls it “my gospel.” That change in words is worth noticing, especially because Romans 1 and Romans 16 share several themes in common. Both sections speak of the power of God, the revelation of what was hidden, and the obedience of faith. The beginning and the end act like bookends that frame everything in between.
As I studied this final passage, two words came into focus: κήρυγμα (preached message) and μυστήριον (mystery revealed). Together, they show why Paul can speak of the gospel as both God’s and his own. It is God’s gospel because it originates in Him and reveals His righteousness. It is Paul’s gospel because it has so entered his life and work that he preaches it, lives by it, and watches it bear fruit.
This is also where Jack Miller’s insight helps. He used to say the gospel is not only facts, love, and power — it is a preached message. A herald’s announcement. A word spoken with the authority of God, heard in faith, and passed along again. That insight comes right to the surface in Romans 16.
So this essay is my attempt to trace how Paul’s letter begins with “God’s gospel” and ends with “my gospel,” and how the preached message and the revealed mystery tie the book together.
I. God’s Gospel in Romans 1:1–17
Paul begins his letter by calling the message he proclaims “the gospel of God” (Romans 1:1). From the very beginning, he anchors it in God Himself. This is not Paul’s invention, nor a human philosophy, but God’s own good news revealed through His Son.
Three themes introduced here shape the rest of Romans and appear again in the closing doxology:
1. The power of God (Romans 1:16).
Paul declares that the gospel is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.” The word power (δύναμις) speaks of God’s active strength. The gospel is not only words on a page but God’s living action to rescue, deliver, and transform. When the gospel is spoken and believed, God is at work with His power.
2. The righteousness of God revealed (Romans 1:17).
Paul explains that in the gospel “the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith.” This righteousness is God’s gift, not something achieved by human effort. It comes to us through faith, and faith continues to carry it forward. The righteous live by faith because they depend on God’s revealed righteousness in Christ.
3. The obedience of faith (Romans 1:5).
Paul says his calling as an apostle is “to bring about the obedience of faith among all the nations.” Faith is not passive. It is active trust in God’s word. To believe the gospel is to obey God’s summons, and that obedience is the beginning of a new life lived in loyalty to Christ.
These three themes — God’s power, God’s righteousness revealed, and the obedience of faith — form the framework of Romans. They set the stage at the beginning of the letter, and they appear again at the end (Romans 16:25–27). Together they show that the gospel begins with God, reveals God’s righteousness, empowers God’s people, and produces faithful obedience among the nations.
II. The Word κήρυγμα (Preached Message)
2.1 Definition & Lexical Family
The word Paul uses in Romans 16:25 is κήρυγμα. At its core it means a proclamation — the content of an announcement made publicly. It comes from the verb κηρύσσω, “to herald” or “to announce.” A related noun, κῆρυξ, means “herald,” the person sent to deliver the message.
This family of words carries two important ideas. First, the message is public. A κήρυγμα is not whispered in private; it is spoken aloud for others to hear. Second, the message is authoritative. A herald does not speak his own words. He announces what has been entrusted to him. His authority is derivative — it comes from the sender.
When Paul speaks of the gospel as a κήρυγμα, he is reminding us that the gospel is not private reflection or human opinion. It is God’s announcement, made through His heralds, spoken with His authority, and meant to be heard.
2.2 Classical Greek Context
In classical Greek, the word κήρυγμα was most often used in civic and military life. A herald stood at the city gate or in the public square to make an announcement on behalf of the king or the city. These announcements could include decrees, the terms of a treaty, or the declaration of war or peace.
The herald’s role was not to argue or to explain but to announce. He carried a word that was binding because of the authority of the one who sent him. To receive the herald’s message was to receive the king’s command. To reject it was to reject the king himself.
This background helps us see that when Paul calls the gospel a κήρυγμα, he is thinking in the same categories. The gospel is not less than explanation, but it is more. It is heralding — the public, authoritative declaration of what God has done in Christ.
2.3 LXX / Hebrew Backdrop
When the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) uses κήρυγμα and its related words, it often translates the Hebrew verb qārā’, meaning “to call out” or “to proclaim.” This word shows up in contexts where God’s word or command must be spoken publicly and heard by the whole community.
For example, in Joel 2:15, the prophet is told to “blow the trumpet in Zion; consecrate a fast; call a solemn assembly.” The Greek version uses κηρύσσω to describe this proclamation. The call is not private advice but a summons from God to His people.
Another example is Jonah 3:2, where God commands Jonah to go to Nineveh and “proclaim” the message He gives him. In the Septuagint, Jonah is told to κήρυξον — to herald God’s word to the city. Jonah’s task was not to offer dialogue or suggestion but to announce God’s word with authority.
In Theodotion’s version of Daniel, the word κῆρυξ (herald) is used for the king’s officials who announce royal decrees to the people (e.g., Daniel 3:4). Here again, the emphasis is on the herald’s borrowed authority: the message he delivers binds the hearers, not because of his own power but because of the authority of the one who sent him.
This background shows that in the Bible, as in classical Greek, preaching carries the weight of God’s own authority. It is His word, publicly spoken, and to hear it is to be summoned by Him.
2.4 NT Usage (Survey)
In the New Testament, κήρυγμα and its related forms keep the same note of public, authoritative proclamation, but the content becomes sharper: it is now the announcement of Jesus Christ and His kingdom.
When Jesus begins His ministry in Galilee, Matthew 4:17 and Mark 1:14–15 describe Him proclaiming: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” This is κηρύσσω — Jesus heralding the arrival of God’s reign. His preaching is not abstract teaching but a declaration that demands a response.
For Paul, κήρυγμα often functions as shorthand for the heart of the gospel. In 1 Corinthians 1:21–23, he says, “It pleased God through the folly of what we preach (τοῦ κηρύγματος) to save those who believe… we preach Christ crucified.” Here κήρυγμα is not a general message but the specific announcement of the cross as God’s saving act.
Romans 10:14–17 makes the same connection. Paul asks, “How are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching (κηρύσσοντος)?” He concludes, “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” Faith is born through the heralded word — the κήρυγμα.
Later, in 2 Timothy 4:17, Paul looks back and says, “The Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message (τὸ κήρυγμα) might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it.” The word he uses — κήρυγμα — again emphasizes proclamation. His mission has been to announce the gospel across nations.
Finally, in Romans 16:25, Paul brings κήρυγμα into his doxology: “Now to Him who is able to strengthen you according to my gospel and the preaching (κήρυγμα) of Jesus Christ…” This verse ties proclamation directly to God’s power to establish believers. The preached word is the channel of divine strength.
Across the New Testament, then, κήρυγμα consistently refers to the public heralding of Christ’s saving work. It is not dialogue, speculation, or private reflection. It is the announced word of God, spoken into the world with His authority.
2.5 Theological Load in Romans
Paul uses κήρυγμα at key moments in Romans to frame the whole letter.
In Romans 1:15–17, Paul declares his eagerness to preach the gospel in Rome. He says the gospel is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” and that in it “the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith.” From the very beginning, κήρυγμα carries weight: it is the proclaimed gospel that brings God’s power and reveals His righteousness.
In Romans 10:14–17, Paul presses the necessity of proclamation. He asks how anyone can believe without hearing, and how they can hear without a preacher. Faith comes from hearing (ἀκοή), and that hearing is tied to obedience (ὑπακοή). Preaching is the bridge: the herald speaks, people hear, faith is born, and obedience of faith follows. Without κήρυγμα, there is no faith.
Finally, in Romans 16:25–26, Paul ties proclamation to mystery and command. He speaks of “my gospel and the preaching (κήρυγμα) of Jesus Christ, according to the revelation of the mystery… now made known through the prophetic writings, according to the command (ἐπιταγή) of the eternal God, to bring about the obedience of faith among all nations.” Here κήρυγμα is not only proclamation, but proclamation backed by God’s eternal command. It reveals the mystery, it reaches the nations, and it produces the obedience of faith.
So within Romans, κήρυγμα carries a threefold load:
Power and revelation (ch. 1).
Faith and obedience born through hearing (ch. 10).
Mystery revealed and commanded for the nations (ch. 16).
This makes preaching central to Paul’s vision of how the gospel moves — from God, through the herald, into the hearts of people, and out into the world.
2.6 Jack Miller’s Fourth Insight
Jack Miller often described the gospel in four parts: it is a message with clear content, it is a promise of God’s personal love, it has power to change both our standing before God and our inner life, and finally, it is a preached message. That last part — the gospel as a preached message — was something Jack came to emphasize more and more over the years.
For Jack, preaching was not based on style or self-assertion. It was speaking a word of grace with persuasion, gentleness, and what he called the authority of faith. That authority did not come from the preacher’s personality or skill, but from the conviction that God Himself stands behind the gospel word. Boldness in preaching meant humble faith in action, joined with what Jack once called “extraordinary indifference to human opinion.”
This kind of preaching by faith, he observed, always bears fruit. Paul said in Colossians 1:6 that the gospel is “bearing fruit and growing in all the world.” Jack believed that fruitfulness flowed from gospel proclamation done in dependence on God, not from technique or charisma.
Jack also connected this insight deeply to Romans 10:17: “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.” He would often ask, “How can I grow in faith so that I may declare it with unshakable convictions to others?” His answer was simple but searching: “I must preach to myself the gospel… for faith comes from hearing.”
In other words, the gospel is not only something we proclaim outwardly to others. It is also something we must proclaim inwardly to ourselves, day by day. Preaching it to ourselves and others —Christian and non-Christian —strengthens our own faith even as it creates faith in those who hear.
2.7 Pastoral Hooks
κῆρυγμα shows me that the gospel is always living speech. It is God’s message announced into the world with His own authority.
It also shows me that preaching is not my invention. It is borrowed authority, because the message belongs to God and not to me. When I speak it, I speak as one entrusted with another’s word.
And preaching is always a word I must hear myself. Each time I declare the gospel, I am also listening again. Faith grows through hearing — first in my own heart, and then in those who listen.
Stepping back, the gospel has content, love, and power — but it also has a voice. It is meant to be proclaimed, heard, and believed. That is why Paul can speak of “my gospel.” It had entered his ears, taken root in his heart, and gone out through his lips until it defined his whole life.
III. The Word μυστήριον (Mystery Revealed)
3.1 What “Mystery” Meant
In the ancient world, μυστήριον pointed to secret rites or guarded knowledge in cults. Access was controlled, and only the initiated could know.
Scripture uses the same word but fills it with a different meaning.
In Daniel, the Aramaic word raz (“secret”) is translated as μυστήριον. Daniel did not solve a puzzle; God revealed what no one else could know (Dan. 2:18–19).
That is the pattern: a biblical mystery belongs first to God’s counsel and comes into view when God chooses to make it known.
So when Paul speaks of the gospel as μυστήριον, he means a divine purpose hidden in God, once concealed but now revealed in Christ.
3.2 The Gospel Always Present
To say the gospel was a mystery does not mean it was absent. God announced it from the beginning.
In Genesis 3:15, He promised a seed who would crush the serpent’s head. Paul says, “The Scripture… preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham” (Gal. 3:8). Revelation describes Jesus as “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world” (Rev. 13:8).
Romans confirms this. The gospel is “the power of God for salvation” because in it “the righteousness of God is revealed” (Rom. 1:16–17). In Romans 4, Abraham “believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness” (4:3). Abraham did not invent righteousness; God revealed it, and he received it by faith.
The gospel was always present. What makes it a mystery is that it had to be disclosed by God and is received by faith.
3.3 The Blinding Nature of Sin
Paul adds another layer in Romans 10:3: “Being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness.”
The problem is not only God’s timing in revelation. The problem is human blindness. Pride makes us try to build our own righteousness. That pursuit darkens our eyes. We cannot see God’s righteousness when it is right in front of us.
Isaiah saw it long before: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil” (Isa. 5:20). Romans 1:21–25 describes the same spiral. In our pride, we exchange God’s glory for lies. We call light darkness and darkness light.
So the mystery is twofold: God reveals in His time, and we blind ourselves in our pride. Both are true, and both leave us dependent on God’s mercy to see.
3.4 Wisdom and Innocence Restored
This explains Paul’s words in Romans 16:19: “I want you to be wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil.”
That command takes us back to Eden. Before the fall, Adam walked with God and could receive wisdom from Him directly. Innocence meant no mixture with evil. But when the serpent promised, “You will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Gen. 3:5), the result was blindness, not wisdom. Humanity tried to define good and evil apart from God, and the mixture corrupted everything.
In Christ, God restores what was lost. He teaches His people again what is truly good. He calls us to turn away from evil instead of trying to define it for ourselves.
The gospel unmasks our blindness and renews wisdom and innocence under God’s word.
3.5 Faith as Restored Sight
Paul keeps tying this restoration to faith.
“The righteous shall live by faith” (Rom. 1:17; Hab. 2:4).
“Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17).
Faith is the way God restores sight to the blind. Faith is “hearing under” (ὑπακοή), a posture of trust that submits to what God reveals.
Faith reverses the fall’s rebellion and brings us back under God’s word. And this has always been the way: Abel, Abraham, Habakkuk, Paul.
The just live by faith because faith is how God’s righteousness is revealed and received.
3.6 The Mystery Now Revealed
That is why Paul ends with doxology in Romans 16:25–26:
“The revelation of the mystery that was kept silent for long ages but has now been disclosed and through the prophetic writings has been made known to all nations… to bring about the obedience of faith.”
The silence was not God’s indifference. It was both His wise timing and our inability to hear.
Now in Christ, the mystery is open. The prophetic writings shine with it. The nations hear it. The obedience of faith responds.
Summary of Section 3
Mystery in Scripture is not gnostic secrecy or mystical haze. It is God’s gospel, always present yet unseen until God reveals and faith receives.
From Eden’s promise to Abraham’s faith to Paul’s proclamation, the same gospel runs through.
Human pride blinds us, God’s timing discloses, and faith restores sight. In Christ, wisdom about good and innocence toward evil are renewed. And the mystery once hidden is now revealed among all nations, bringing the obedience of faith.
IV. Bookend Themes in Romans
When you step back from Romans and look at the beginning and the end together, you can see how Paul has framed the whole letter.
The doxology in Romans 16 is not a random flourish. It is the echo and completion of what he set out to say in chapter 1.
The letter begins with God’s gospel, power, revelation, proclamation, and the obedience of faith.
It ends with the same themes in slightly different language, circling us back so that the whole is enclosed, bracketed, and sealed.
4.0 A Note on the Ending of Romans
Before we look at the bookends in Romans 1 and 16, it is worth noting that the final verses of Romans (16:25–27) come with some textual questions.
Some manuscripts include verse 24 (“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all. Amen”), while others do not. In addition, the entire doxology (vv. 25–27) is absent or placed differently in a few ancient copies. Most modern translations and critical editions retain it, and rightly so, because the evidence overwhelmingly supports its authenticity.
The words themselves in Romans 16 bear the clear marks of Paul’s thought and fit perfectly with the rest of the letter.
Far from shaking our confidence in God’s Word, the very existence of these discussions shows the care with which the church has preserved the text and the confidence we can have that we are reading Paul’s conclusion as he intended it.
4.1 From God’s Gospel to My Gospel
Romans opens with Paul saying he was “set apart for the gospel of God” (1:1). By the end, he praises God “according to my gospel and the preaching of Jesus Christ” (16:25).
The gospel belongs to God, and it is God’s initiative. Yet through hearing, believing, and heralding, Paul can also call it “my gospel.” This does not mean it originates in him, but that it has so taken hold of him that he has become personally bound to it.
The arc from Romans 1 to Romans 16 is not a change in substance but a change in possession: God’s gospel has now become Paul’s gospel too, because he has staked his life on it and has given it away to others.
4.2 From Proclaiming to Proclaiming
Romans 1:15 shows Paul’s eagerness: “I am eager to preach (κήρυγμα) the gospel to you also who are in Rome.”
Romans 16:25 returns to the same theme: God strengthens believers “according to my gospel and the preaching (κήρυγμα) of Jesus Christ.”
The gospel begins with proclamation, and it ends with proclamation.
Paul does not treat it as private reflection or personal spirituality. It is a message announced, heralded, spoken aloud with God’s own authority.
That is why Romans 10 insists, “How are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” (10:14).
Faith requires proclamation. And at the end, Paul attributes God’s strengthening work to this very κήρυγμα — the preached message of Jesus Christ.
From start to finish, Romans assumes that the gospel advances by being proclaimed.
4.3 From Power to Strengthening
In Romans 1:16, the gospel is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes.”
In Romans 16:25, Paul speaks of the God “who is able to strengthen you.”
The same word and the same power that saves us also secures, stabilizes, and strengthens us.
God not only brings us in by the gospel; He keeps us standing in it the gospel.
The letter begins with power to save and ends with power to sustain.
4.4 From Righteousness Revealed to Mystery Revealed
Romans 1:17 says that in the gospel “the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith.”
Romans 16:25–26 celebrates “the revelation of the mystery… now disclosed.”
The gospel has always contained God’s righteousness, but sin blinded us to it.
In Christ, the mystery is revealed, the veil is lifted, and God’s righteousness stands open to all nations.
What Romans 1 names as God’s righteousness revealed, Romans 16 names as God’s mystery revealed.
Both uses of “revealed” describe the same reality: God discloses His saving purpose in His own time, and faith receives it.
4.5 From the Obedience of Faith to the Obedience of Faith
Paul begins with his apostolic mission “to bring about the obedience of faith” among the nations (1:5).
He ends with the same purpose: the revealed mystery is made known “to bring about the obedience of faith” (16:26).
This is no afterthought. From beginning to end, Paul’s concern is that people would hear God’s gospel, believe it, and live under it.
The frame is the same: obedience that consists of faith, a faith itself that is a gift of God’s sovereign grace. The letter opens with it, closes with it, and everything in between drives toward it.
4.6 Framing the Whole Letter
Taken together, these bookends show deliberate design. Romans is not a collection of disconnected arguments. It is one coherent announcement: the gospel is God’s, revealed in Christ, proclaimed to the nations, producing faith, bringing righteousness, creating obedience, and holding believers firm.
The doxology at the end circles us back to the beginning and leaves us worshiping the only wise God who authored it all.
4.7 Summary: Confidence in God’s Word
The same letter that begins with God’s gospel ends with Paul’s gospel, yet the two are one and the same.
The same letter that begins with proclamation ends with proclamation.
The same gospel that reveals God’s righteousness now reveals the mystery of God’s righteousness — that is ours through faith alone in Christ alone by God’s grace alone for God’s glory alone as revealed in God’s Word alone.
The same purpose that begins with the obedience of faith ends with the obedience of faith.
And the same power that saves us also strengthens us and holds us all the way to the end, because God’s gospel is the power of salvation for everyone who believes and keeps on believing.
V. Why “My Gospel?”
When Paul closes Romans by speaking of “my gospel” (16:25), he speaks from deep possession.
The gospel belongs to God. It begins in Him, it comes from Him, and it always remains His.
Yet Paul can say “my gospel” because it has so taken hold of him that his whole life is bound to it. Through hearing, believing, and proclaiming the message, Paul has been shaped and carried by it.
This kind of possession grows through a lived rhythm: hearing the gospel proclaimed, receiving it by faith, and then heralding it to others.
Each step drives the gospel deeper into a person’s heart. Paul preached and in the act of preaching he heard it again himself. As he gave the gospel away, he experienced it afresh and became more deeply anchored in it.
The gospel becomes personal as it is spoken and shared.
Jack Miller summarized the gospel in four essentials: it declares the facts of Christ, it offers the assurance of God’s love, it carries the power to change both standing and heart, and it comes as a spoken word.
This fourth insight grew more important for him over time. The gospel is a heralded message, a living word with divine authority.
To preach the gospel is to speak it with persuasion, with gentleness, and with what Jack called “the authority of faith.”
The authority of faith rests not in the speaker’s personality but in God’s own promise. This is why gospel proclamation carries both humble boldness and extraordinary confidence.
Romans 10 gives the frame: “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (10:17). The gospel itself produces faith. This is true for the unbeliever who hears it for the first time and for the believer who needs to hear it again each day.
Paul longed to proclaim the gospel even to those already in Rome (1:15) because believers continue to live and grow under the voice of the gospel.
The obedience of faith is not only a single act at conversion but also a way of life formed by constant hearing.
For Paul, this made “my gospel” the most fitting phrase. He had lived under the gospel’s voice. He had spoken it to others and seen its fruit across the nations. He had experienced its power to sustain him in weakness and to bring worship out of suffering.
From “God’s gospel” at the beginning to “my gospel” at the end, Romans bears witness to the way the gospel moves from the God who reveals it to the one who believes and proclaims it with joy.
VI. Modern Preaching and the Problem
Paul’s word for gospel proclamation, κήρυγμα, carries the weight of a herald’s announcement — a royal message with God’s own authority.
When Paul says in Romans 16:26 that the mystery is revealed “according to the command (ἐπιταγή) of the eternal God,” he places gospel proclamation in the category of divine orders.
Gospel proclamation is not a suggestion to weigh, but a summons to receive and believe.
In our own time, preaching often takes different forms. It can sound like an academic lecture, focused on information. It can take the form of moral exhortation, focused on behavior. It can resemble therapy, focused on comfort.
Each of these can offer something valuable in its place. Yet when they stand alone, they lack the herald’s note.
Preaching in Paul’s sense is a Spirit-charged announcement — God’s own word breaking in with power, promise, and authority.
This is where ἐπιταγή matters. The gospel comes as a command from the eternal God.
Commands carry the authority of the one who gives them. In a military community, this is easy to understand. Orders are binding because they come from the commander. So too with the gospel: the command to believe and live comes from God Himself. And unlike human orders, this one creates what it requires.
The call to faith brings faith into being, because the gospel is the power of God for salvation.
This restores boldness and clarity to preaching. To herald the gospel is to announce God’s own word, trusting that it will do its work.
The authority does not come from the preacher’s skill or personality but from the One who speaks through the message.
This is what Paul meant by the κήρυγμα of Christ: a message that carries the command of God, opens the mystery, and calls forth the obedience of faith among the nations.
VII. Why This Matters Personally
The gospel is never an abstract idea. Paul calls it “the power of God for salvation” (Romans 1:16). That power does not float in the air. It comes through a proclaimed word.
The gospel has content — who Jesus is, what He has done, and why it matters — but it always comes to us as an announced message. It is heard, believed, and trusted.
That is why preaching is never just for others. To preach the gospel is also to hear it again yourself.
This is why every Christian needs to learn the habit of preaching the gospel to themselves and to one another as fellow Christians in view of sharing it with not-yet-Christians.
When we tell ourselves the truth about Christ’s cross and resurrection, we are not only reminding our minds; we are placing ourselves again under the word that creates faith.
Jack Miller often asked: “How can I grow in faith so that I may declare it with unshakable convictions to others?”
His answer was simple but profound: “I must preach the gospel to myself.” Faith grows by hearing, and the gospel is the word we most need to hear.
Paul says in Romans 10:17 that “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”
That is as true for the seasoned Christian as it is for the first-time believer.
Renewal in the church flows from the same source: hearing the gospel, believing it again, and seeing it bear fruit.
Paul describes this in Colossians 1:6: the gospel is “bearing fruit and growing in the whole world” — and it continues to do so wherever it is proclaimed and heard.
So the personal takeaway is this: to preach the gospel is also to hear it. To declare it is also to live by it. And every fresh hearing of the gospel is God’s way of renewing faith, both in me and in the church.
Conclusion
When you step back and take Romans as a whole, you can see the arc: from God’s gospel at the beginning (1:1) to Paul calling it “my gospel” at the end (16:25).
That shift does not mean the gospel changed. It means the gospel, heard, believed, and proclaimed with the authority of faith, had so taken hold of Paul that he could speak of it personally.
What began as “God’s gospel” has become “my gospel” through the rhythm of hearing and heralding.
Two words stand at the center of this arc. The first is κήρυγμα: the gospel as a proclaimed word. It is not a private thought, a hidden insight, or advice to consider. It is an announcement from God Himself, heralded with His authority.
The second is μυστήριον: the gospel once hidden, now revealed. It was always present in God’s plan, spoken from the beginning, but blindness and self-righteousness kept it veiled. In Christ, the veil is lifted, the righteousness of God is revealed, and all nations are summoned into the obedience of faith.
Taken together, these show us that preaching is never just explanation. It is God’s own royal summons, creating faith where there was none, sustaining faith where it has grown weary, and gathering people into obedience that flows from trust in Him.
That is why Paul does not end with one more argument, but with praise.
The gospel proclaimed, revealed, and believed leads to worship — glory to the only wise God, through Jesus Christ, forever.
As we watch God’s gospel become Paul’s gospel, as we join the angels who never tire of gazing into this gospel, the response of faith rises from our lips:
“Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!
For who has known the mind of the Lord,or who has been his counselor?
Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?
For from him and through him and to him are all things.To him be glory forever. Amen.” (Romans 11:33–36)
When I first decided to preach from Romans 16:17–19, the title “Guard the Gospel and Walk in Obedience” came to my mind. The passage is a clear warning from Paul to the church in Rome: watch out for those who create divisions and obstacles contrary to the doctrine you have learned. The language is direct, the instruction specific.
But as soon as the title formed in my mind, another question surfaced:
How do the three priorities of the church affect these two things — guarding the gospel and walking in obedience?
I remembered what Jack Miller taught about the three priorities of the church, which I described in my doctoral work:
Go with the gospel.
Disciple Christians to go with the gospel.
Defend the faith as you go with the gospel.
This framework matters because “guarding the gospel” can easily be misunderstood. If we think of guarding as our first priority, it can become static — a defensive stance, concerned mostly with holding our ground. But if we place it where Jack placed it — as the third priority of the church, in the context of going and discipling — then guarding becomes part of an active movement. It’s protecting the message while carrying it forward.
Once that connection was in place in my mind, the rest of the passage began to take shape around it. Romans 16:17–19 would let us see both what guarding the gospel looks like in its proper place and what happens when that priority is reversed. This led to a second major theme: walking in obedience.
Here again, the context matters. Paul’s call to “obedience of faith” (Romans 1:5; 16:26) is not obedience to the law as a means of earning God’s favor. It is the obedience that comes from trusting Christ — the response of faith to God’s command to believe in His Son (Acts 17:30; John 3:36). This obedience is the doorway into a life that truly fulfills the law, because it unites us to Christ, the One who has fulfilled the law for us (Romans 7:1–6; Galatians 5:6).
By the end of my work on this week’s sermon, I had two clear goals I wanted listeners to be clear about:
—First, what “the three priorities of the church” are and how “guarding the gospel” fits into them.
—Second, what Paul means by the “obedience of faith” and how it relates to “obedience to the law.”
These same two aims give shape to this essay. The structure of the text and the title work together: when guarding the gospel is in its right place, it clarifies what walking in obedience looks like. When the priorities are reversed, it distorts both.
1. The Three Priorities of the Church
When Jack Miller described the work of the church, he did so in terms of priorities. These were not meant to be abstract ministry theory. They were a practical ordering of what the church must do if it is going to be fruitful and faithful to Christ. Jack came to these priorities through observation, reflection on Scripture, and experience in ministry. He had seen and pastored churches busy with many activities but unclear on how those activities related to the mission Christ had given.
Jack’s order of the three priorities of the church:
Go with the gospel.
Disciple Christians to go with the gospel.
Defend the faith as you go with the gospel.
Each one builds on the previous. If the first priority is neglected, the others lose their meaning and power. If the second is skipped, the work will be thin and unsustainable. And if the third is moved to the front, the whole posture of the church changes.
The first priority — going with the gospel — is drawn from Jesus’ Great Commission (Matt. 28:18–20) and His promise in Acts 1:8 that the Spirit would empower His people to be witnesses “to the end of the earth.” Going is active, relational, and intentional. It is taking the good news of who Jesus is, what He has done, and why it matters into the real settings where people live. It is the first thing because without going, there is no mission.
The second priority — discipling Christians to go — ensures that the work of going is not left to a few. This is the “every member ministry” vision Paul describes in Ephesians 4:11–16: leaders equip the saints for the work of ministry so that the body builds itself up in love. Discipleship here means more than personal growth; it is growth with a purpose. Christians learn the gospel deeply, apply it to their own lives, and gain the skill to share it with others — in the church, at home, and beyond.
The third priority — defending the faith as you go — is necessary because the gospel will be challenged. False teaching, cultural pressures, personal fears, and spiritual opposition all work against it. But defending the gospel is meant to happen as we are going with the gospel. The church is not to build walls and hide; it is to guard the gospel while carrying it forward. The forward-facing shield in Ephesians 6 is a good picture: protection designed for an advancing army, not a retreating one.
Why this order matters becomes clear in practice:
—When going with the gospel is first, the church is outward-facing. Its energy flows toward people who need to hear and believe.
—When discipling to go is second, the church’s teaching and training are shaped by mission. The focus is on the fullness of the gospel and how to communicate it clearly and lovingly in real conversations.
—When defending as you go is third, guarding the gospel is active and purposeful — it protects the message so it can keep moving into new lives.
When the order is reversed, the results are very different. If defending the faith comes first, the church can take on a fortress mentality. It becomes reactive instead of proactive. Teaching drifts toward winning arguments or protecting identity rather than proclaiming Christ. Discipleship becomes about mastering defenses rather than knowing God and the One whom He has sent (John 17:3). “Going” becomes occasional or optional, because the focus has turned inward. The result is often division, distraction, and a loss of urgency for the mission.
This priority order also shapes the relationship between teaching (διδαχή) and learning (μανθάνω). When the first priority is going with the gospel, teaching centers on the gospel’s content — who Jesus is, what He has done, and why it matters — and how to bring that message into real settings. Learning means internalizing that message personally, preaching it to yourself, and practicing it with others until it becomes a natural part of your life. In this order, teaching and learning are dynamic and mission-driven.
In Romans 16:17–19, Paul’s call to “watch out” fits naturally within this framework. Guarding the gospel is essential, but it is most effective when done in motion, in the context of going and discipling. This is how the church remains both faithful to the truth and fruitful in the mission Christ has given.
2. What We Mean by the Gospel
Before we go further into Paul’s instructions, I want to set out plainly what I mean when I use the word “gospel.”
In recent months, I’ve made it my habit in nearly every essay or sermon to pause and define what I mean by the gospel clearly. Some may wonder why I repeat this so often. The answer is simple: I need to hear it again myself, and I want to be sure that when I say “gospel,” I am not speaking vaguely. If the gospel is the power of God for salvation (Romans 1:16), then it needs to be clear in my own mind and in the minds of those who hear me.
For that reason, I have often returned to Jack Miller’s A New Lifebooklet. In it, Jack distilled the gospel into what he called the “Five Facts.” I’ve come to see these as a concise and faithful way to keep the heart of the gospel in front of me. They are not the only way to summarize the gospel, but they are rooted in Scripture and keep the message both clear and personal.
Here they are:
1. Why did Jesus say He came into the world?
A loving God sent His Son Jesus into the world so that we may have a new and abundant life.
— John 10:10; John 7:37–38
2. Why are so many people without this new life?
Because we are self-centered and God is not at the center of our lives.
— Romans 3:10–12, 23
3. What separates us from God?
A bad record, a bad heart, and a bad master.
— Romans 6:23; Jeremiah 17:9; John 8:34
4. What is the greatest gift of the Father’s love?
Jesus, the God-man, suffered all the torments of hell as a substitute for His people. He was legally condemned by God as their representative, removing the barriers of a bad record, a bad heart, and a bad master. Risen from the dead, He now lives to give us a new record, a new heart, Himself as our Master, and the free gift of eternal life now.
— John 3:16; Galatians 3:13; 2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 6:23; John 17:3; 1 Peter 1:3–5
5. How do we receive this new and abundant life?
By turning in sorrow from our sin and believing on the Lord Jesus Christ. And how do we continue in this new life? In the same way we began — “As you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him.”
— Acts 3:19; Acts 16:31; Colossians 2:6
This gospel is both an announcement and a summons. It is God’s declaration of what He has done in Christ and His call to us to respond in faith. Everything Paul says in Romans — including his warnings in chapter 16 — flows from this message. When he speaks of “the doctrine you have been taught” (Romans 16:17), he is talking about this gospel in its fullness.
Keeping this definition in view matters for the rest of this essay. It keeps our focus on the right message, the right Person, and the right mission. Without it, the words “guard the gospel” risk becoming a slogan without substance. With it, we know exactly what we are guarding, and why.
Section 3 – Guarding the Gospel in Its Proper Place
Guarding the gospel is one of Paul’s central concerns in Romans 16:17–19. But in the framework of Jack Miller’s three priorities of the church, guarding is not the first priority—it’s the third. It only finds its proper shape and power when it follows going with the gospel and discipling Christians to go with the gospel. When guarding is placed first, it risks becoming defensive, suspicious, and static. When it is placed third, it becomes a forward-facing protection, keeping the message clear and uncorrupted while it is being carried into conversations, relationships, and communities.
This order matters because it changes our position, posture, and purpose. In a defensive-first model, guarding tends toward isolation—keeping perceived threats out rather than keeping the mission moving forward. In the go–disciple–guard model, vigilance is exercised on the move. The aim is not to keep the church safe by limiting exposure, but to guard the gospel as we engages one another and the world with its message.
That’s the framework Paul’s language supports in Romans 16:17–19.
3.1 Guarding the Gospel in Romans 16:17
Paul’s opening command in Romans 16:17 is clear:
“I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them.”
3.1.1 The verb “watch out” — σκοπέω
The Greek verb σκοπέω means to “look at closely, observe attentively, keep your eye on.” It is used in Philippians 3:17 to tell believers to “keep your eyes on” those who live according to the example Paul gave, and in Hebrews 12:15 to “see to it” that no one fails to obtain the grace of God.
The idea is not casual observation but active, intentional watchfulness—the kind a shepherd exercises over his flock or a sentry keeps at his post.
—Classical Greek: σκοπέω was used in military contexts for watching the enemy’s movements, and in philosophy for close examination of an idea or argument.
—Septuagint (LXX): Similar words appear in watchman imagery like Ezekiel 33:7, where the prophet is appointed as a “watchman” for Israel—a role that combines vigilance with the responsibility to warn.
—New Testament: It can be used positively (watch those who set a godly example) or negatively (watch out for threats to the church’s health).
In Romans 16:17, the posture of σκοπέω is active but not fleshly. It is not suspicion for its own sake, nor control over others, but careful discernment aimed at protecting the advance of the gospel.
When we link σκοπέω with the first of Jack’s three priorities (“go with the gospel”), we see that this watchfulness is meant to happen on mission. It is the vigilance of someone who is already moving with the gospel and is alert to threats that could distort the message or divide the team.
3.1.2 The threat: διχοστασίαι and σκάνδαλα
Paul names two dangers: “divisions” (διχοστασίαι) and “obstacles” (σκάνδαλα).
—Διχοστασία is a compound of δίχα (“apart”) and στάσις (“standing”), literally “standing apart.” It refers to separations, dissensions, or factionalism. In Galatians 5:20, it appears in the list of works of the flesh. In the LXX, it’s rare, but similar terms describe rebellion in Israel’s history.
—Σκάνδαλον is a “stumbling block” or “snare.” In Romans 9:33, Paul uses it for Christ Himself—the God-given stumbling stone. In Romans 16:17, however, σκάνδαλα are “contrary to the doctrine” the church had learned. These are man-made barriers: rules, tests, or expectations that obscure Christ and burden consciences.
Paul’s warning here is that both of these—divisions and false stumbling blocks—are contrary to “the doctrine” (τὴν διδαχήν) the believers had learned.
3.1.3 Doctrine learned: διδαχή and μανθάνω
The “doctrine” (διδαχή) is the teaching of the gospel itself, unfolded across Romans 1–15. It is not just abstract theology but the truth about Jesus—His life, death, resurrection, reign, and return—and what that means for life in Christ.
The verb “learned” (ἐμάθετε, from μανθάνω) means to gain knowledge through instruction and experience. In the NT, μανθάνω is used for discipleship—learning the way of Christ in both word and deed (cf. Matthew 11:29, “learn from me”).
This combination shows that Paul is talking about teaching and learning in a relational, experiential way. The doctrine is not just to be stored in the mind; it is learned in the life of the church as the gospel is believed, taught, shared, and lived out.
3.1.4 Avoid them: ἐκκλίνω
Paul adds the command to “avoid them” (ἐκκλίνετε). This verb means to turn aside, to keep away from. In the LXX, it is used for turning away from evil (Psalm 34:14; Proverbs 3:7). In the NT, it appears in 1 Peter 3:11—“let him turn away from evil and do good.”
The avoidance Paul commands is not passive indifference but an intentional stepping aside from those who persist in distorting the gospel or dividing the body. It is the refusal to give influence to someone who is working against the mission.
3.1.5 Guarding in Christ
Every one of these actions—watching, teaching, learning, avoiding—can be done either in the flesh or in Christ.
—In the flesh: watchfulness becomes suspicion; teaching centers on winning arguments; learning is about mastering defenses; avoidance is about personal comfort.
—In Christ: watchfulness depends on God’s wisdom in prayer; teaching centers on the gospel’s fullness and clarity; learning is relational and experiential; avoidance protects unity for the sake of gospel advance.
This is where the third priority of the church (defending the faith) finds its proper place. When it follows going and discipling, guarding the gospel becomes a forward-facing defense that preserves the clarity of the message while it is being shared—both with those outside the church and those within it who need the gospel daily.
3.2 Guarding Shapes Teaching and Learning
When guarding is practiced in its proper place, it sharpens the church’s teaching and energizes its learning. Teaching is anchored in the gospel’s content—who Jesus is, what He has done, and why it matters—and directed toward equipping believers to bring that message into their relationships. Learning becomes participatory: preaching the gospel to oneself, speaking it to one another, and living it out in the settings where God has placed us.
Guarding in this sense does not shrink the scope of teaching to a set of defensive arguments. Instead, it expands teaching into a dynamic engagement with the gospel in the real world. It ensures that learning is not just cognitive but relational and missional.
3.3 Guarding as Protection of Gospel Advance
Finally, guarding the gospel in its proper place serves the mission directly. It removes distortions that would slow or sideline the message. It preserves unity so that the church’s witness remains credible. It keeps the focus on Christ, the one true stumbling block God has placed before the world, and clears away the false stumbling blocks we might be tempted to add.
When guarding works this way—following going and discipling—it is not about keeping the church safe from the world; it is about keeping the gospel free to run (2 Thess. 3:1) in the world.
Section 4 – Division Weakens Gospel Advance
Paul’s warning in Romans 16:17–18 is not an abstract concern about theological disagreements. It is a direct pastoral instruction about a live threat: division and false stumbling blocks that work against the gospel’s advance.
When the church reverses the three priorities Jack Miller identified—putting defending the faith first, discipling second, and going last—this threat grows stronger. Defending becomes the focus, discipleship becomes about defending positions, and going becomes optional. The energy of the church turns inward, toward protecting itself or winning arguments, instead of outward, toward making Christ known. In that climate, divisions multiply, false obstacles appear, and the mission slows or stops.
4.1 Divisions and Obstacles in Romans 16:17–18
Consider again the two vivid terms used by Paul to describe the threat and scandal of false stumbling blocks
—Διχοστασία (divisions) — A compound of δίχα (“apart”) and στάσις (“standing”), literally “standing apart.” In the NT, it occurs in Galatians 5:20 in the list of “works of the flesh,” describing factions that fracture unity. In the LXX, related terms describe rebellion in Israel’s history, where leaders stirred up dissent for their own gain (e.g., Numbers 16, Korah’s rebellion).
—Σκάνδαλον (obstacles/stumbling blocks) — In its literal sense, it referred to a trap or snare. Paul uses it in Romans 9:33 for Christ Himself—the God-given stumbling stone that confronts unbelief. But here in Romans 16:17, these are not God-given. They are “contrary to the doctrine” the church has learned—human-made barriers that obscure Christ.
False stumbling blocks can take many forms:
• Added rules or traditions that become tests of belonging.
• Cultural or political litmus tests.
• Moral performance standards that replace grace.
When the church “puts anything in front of people before Christ”—whether moral performance, political alignment, or cultural conformity—it replaces the God-given stumbling block with its own. That burdens consciences, distorts the gospel, and discourages both those who do not yet believe and those in the church who need the gospel daily.
4.2 The Source and Strategy Behind the Threat
Paul explains in verse 18 that those causing these problems “do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites” (κοιλία, literally “belly,” a metaphor for self-interest). They use “smooth talk” (χρηστολογία) and “flattery” (εὐλογία) to deceive the hearts of the naïve.
—Κοιλία — While it can refer to the physical stomach, it is often used metaphorically in Scripture for bodily desires or self-serving appetites (Phil. 3:19).
—Χρηστολογία — A rare word meaning “plausible-sounding speech” or “polished words” that make falsehood sound reasonable.
—Εὐλογία — In its positive sense, “blessing” or “good words,” but here it is empty flattery—language that wins trust while hiding true motives.
This combination—self-interest, persuasive speech, and deceptive flattery—is a well-worn strategy. In the garden, the serpent appealed to desire (“you will be like God”) and used smooth words to mask a lie. In the OT, false prophets often told the people what they wanted to hear (Jeremiah 6:14).
Paul’s concern is that such voices work inside the church, not just outside. If the church is not actively going with the gospel, it becomes more susceptible to these internal disruptions. Without the outward pull of mission, the inward pull of self-interest and factionalism fills the vacuum.
4.3 How Reversed Priorities Feed Division
Jack Miller’s order—(1) go with the gospel, (2) disciple Christians to go, (3) defend as you go—keeps the mission outward.
Reversing the order has predictable effects:
Defending first shifts the focus to “protecting” before proclaiming.
Discipling second becomes training in argument rather than training in gospel clarity and grace.
Going last means it happens rarely, if at all.
Without active mission, differences inside the church loom larger. Every disagreement has more space to grow into division. Theological precision is still important, but without the context of mission, it can become a tool for control or exclusion rather than a means of clarity for gospel advance.
This is exactly the climate in which διχοστασία thrives. And once factionalism sets in, σκάνδαλα—the false stumbling blocks—are right there to trip over. The message becomes cluttered, and those both inside and outside the church encounter barriers to Christ that God never placed there.
4.4 The Impact on Teaching and Learning
In Romans 16:17, Paul warns against what is “contrary to the doctrine you have learned.” That phrase connects to the Greek διδαχή (teaching) and μανθάνω (learning).
—When priorities are right, teaching is centered on the gospel’s content—Christ crucified and risen—and its application in real life. Learning is relational, experiential, and aimed at living and sharing that message.
—When priorities are reversed, teaching can shift to defending a subculture or a set of preferences. Learning becomes about stockpiling answers to win debates, rather than growing in the grace and knowledge of Christ.
Paul warned Timothy about this in 1 Timothy 1:3–7: when teaching is driven by speculation rather than stewardship from God, it produces “vain discussion” instead of love from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith.
4.5 The Enemy’s Strategy
In the Old Testament, God sometimes granted victory to His people by causing confusion in enemy ranks (Judges 7:22; 2 Chron. 20:22–23). Paul’s warning here suggests that the enemy can turn this tactic against the church. If he can get an advancing gospel army to turn inward and fight itself, he doesn’t need to stop it directly. Division stalls the mission without a single external blow.
It is no accident then that Paul connects the divisions and creating stumbling blocks and obstacles to the presence of evil in Romans 16:19 and to Satan himself in Romans 16:20:
“For your obedience is known to all, so that I rejoice over you, but I want you to be wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil. The God of peace will soon crush Satan under your feet. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.”
That’s why guarding the gospel in the right order of priorities is so critical. It’s not just about internal harmony; it’s about maintaining the church’s readiness and ability to carry the message of Christ with clarity and love.
4.6 Summary of Section 4
When guarding the gospel is removed from its mission context, it easily becomes guarding ourselves. That reversal fosters division, multiplies false stumbling blocks, and re-centers teaching and learning on something other than Christ. The result is that the gospel’s advance is slowed, and the unity that should commend it to the world is fractured.
Guarding the gospel in its proper place, however, clears the path for the gospel to move forward—protecting its clarity, removing unnecessary barriers, and keeping the church’s energy aimed where it belongs: toward making Christ known among the nations and declaring the excellencies of His mercies that are new every day.
5. Christ Unites Us in the Obedience of Faith
Paul’s language about “obedience” in Romans has been carefully chosen and deliberately framed. He begins the letter by speaking of his apostolic mission “to bring about the obedience of faith” (Romans 1:5), and he ends the letter with the same phrase (Romans 16:26).
This “obedience of faith” is not obedience to the Mosaic law as a means of earning righteousness; it is obedience to the gospel itself — the royal summons of God to believe on His Son.
5.1 The Nature of “Obedience of Faith”
The Greek word Paul uses for “obedience” is ὑπακοή (from ὑπό, “under” + ἀκούω, “to hear”). It literally means “to hear under,” and it carries the idea of listening attentively with the intention to submit or respond. In Scripture, it is the kind of hearing that leads to action.
—Classical Greek: ὑπακοή was used for obeying commands or heeding instructions, often in military or household contexts.
—LXX (Septuagint): Used to translate Hebrew words for hearing and obeying God’s voice (e.g., Deut. 28:1–2).
—NT Usage: In Romans 1:5 and 16:26, it refers to the obedience that is faith — trusting submission to the gospel. In 2 Thessalonians 1:8, it describes those who “do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus,” placing unbelief in the category of disobedience.
The point is clear: in Paul’s mind, the gospel is not advice. It is not merely an offer to consider. It is a command from the living God to repent and believe (Acts 17:30; John 3:36). To refuse is to disobey; to believe is to obey.
5.2 The Gospel as a Royal Summons
Understanding the gospel as a summons reshapes how we think about obedience. In Eden, God’s command was clear: “You may surely eat of every tree… but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat” (Gen. 2:16–17). Adam and Eve’s sin was not curiosity; it was rebellion against a clear command.
The gospel comes as a new covenant command: “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31). This is the “obedience of faith.” It is not obedience to the law in order to be accepted; it is the obedience that comes from trusting Christ for our acceptance.
Once we see this, the link between faith and obedience becomes unbreakable:
—Faith responds to God’s command to believe.
—That believing unites us to Christ.
—In that union, we are set free to live in ways that fulfill the law’s intent — love for God and neighbor.
5.3 Union with Christ and True Law-Keeping Love
Romans 7:1–6 is essential here. Paul uses the analogy of marriage: we were “married” to the law, bound to it as a covenant of works. But through the death of Christ, we have “died to the law through the body of Christ” so that we might “belong to another” — to Christ, who was raised from the dead — “in order that we may bear fruit for God.”
That shift in covenant relationship changes everything:
—The law is still holy, righteous, and good (Romans 7:12), but we no longer relate to it as a condemning husband.
—We now bear fruit for God out of our new union with Christ.
—This fruit is the fulfillment of the law’s righteous requirement (Romans 8:4) through “faith working out in love” (Galatians 5:6).
In other words, you cannot truly obey God’s law apart from obeying the gospel. Law-keeping love flows from gospel faith. Without that faith, attempts to obey the law either collapse into despair or inflate into pride.
5.4 Why This Matters for Guarding and Going
This is where Paul’s logic in Romans 16:17–19 connects to the obedience of faith. When the three priorities of the church are in their right order:
We go with the gospel, calling people — believer and unbeliever alike — to trust and follow Christ.
We disciple Christians to go, which means equipping them to live in the obedience of faith and to help others do the same.
We defend the faith as we go, protecting the gospel’s clarity so that the obedience we are calling for is the obedience of faith, not obedience to man-made rules or cultural shibboleths.
When the priorities are reversed, obedience gets distorted. “Walking in obedience” gets redefined as conformity to the group’s distinctives or alignment with its cultural values, rather than faith in Christ expressed in love. The result is a church that may be busy, disciplined, and even zealous — but not actually producing the fruit of the gospel.
Guarding the gospel in going with the gospel is what keeps the gospel as the gospel. Paul’s “watch out” is not about pulling back; it’s about protecting the truth while advancing it. This is the heart of Jack Miller’s third priority — defend the faith as you go.
5.5 The Gospel’s Double Reach
One important point that emerges here — something I’ve emphasized often — is that going with the gospel is not just going to unbelievers. Paul was “eager to preach the gospel… to you who are in Rome” (Romans 1:15) — to believers. Every Christian needs the gospel daily, because the obedience of faith is not a one-time act at conversion.
We enter the Christian life by the obedience of faith, and we continue in it the same way:
“As you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him” (Colossians 2:6).
That means:
—We preach the gospel to ourselves.
—We share it with one another in the church.
—We take it to those around us who have not yet believed.
This daily rhythm keeps the obedience we practice tethered to the gospel we have received.
5.6 Summary of Section 5
The obedience of faith is God’s command to believe in His Son — a command that is also the gateway to a life of true law-keeping love. It begins with hearing and believing the gospel, and it continues as we live out that faith in union with Christ.
Guarding the gospel, in its proper place in the church’s priorities, protects the clarity of that call. It ensures that the obedience we pursue and teach is the obedience of faith — the only obedience that fulfills the law because it flows from Christ Himself.
6. Walking in Obedience Together
In Romans 16:19, Paul says:
“For your obedience is known to all, so that I rejoice over you, but I want you to be wise as to what is good and innocent as to what is evil.”
This is not a throwaway compliment. It ties directly to everything Paul has written about the obedience of faith from the beginning of the letter (1:5; 16:26) and connects to the practical way a church walks in obedience together.
Here, Paul joins affirmation with exhortation — rejoicing in their obedience while giving clear direction for how to continue in it.
6.1 Obedience in the Context of Community
Paul’s commendation — “your obedience is known to all” — is corporate. He’s not just talking about a few exemplary individuals; he’s referring to the collective life of the church in Rome.
This shows that obedience to Christ is not merely a private matter. The obedience of faith is expressed and sustained in the shared life of God’s people.
When a church walks in the obedience of faith together:
—Its unity commends the gospel to outsiders (John 13:34–35).
—Its members help each other persevere (Hebrews 3:12–14).
—Its collective life displays what the reign of Christ looks like in relationships, work, and worship (Ephesians 4:1–16).
The “together” is essential because the gospel we guard and carry is not an individual possession; it’s a shared stewardship (1 Timothy 6:20; 2 Timothy 1:14).
6.2 Wise About What Is Good
Paul’s first exhortation is to “be wise as to what is good.” Wisdom here is not abstract theory; it’s the skill in the art of Godly living that is in alignment with God’s will (cf. Proverbs 1:7; Colossians 1:9–10).
In the context of Romans 16, “what is good” is what promotes the gospel’s advance, strengthens the church’s unity, and reflects the character of Christ.
To be wise about what is good means:
—Knowing what builds up rather than tears down (Romans 14:19).
—Recognizing when an issue is worth contending for and when it is a matter of personal conscience (Romans 14:1–12).
—Having discernment about what will serve the mission and what will distract from it.
6.3 Innocent About What Is Evil
The second exhortation is to be “innocent as to what is evil.” This doesn’t mean naïve. Paul is not calling the Romans to ignorance about evil; he’s calling them to be untainted by it.
The word “innocent” (ἀκέραιος) conveys purity, simplicity, and integrity — being unmixed with evil. Jesus uses the same word in Matthew 10:16 when He tells His disciples to be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”
For the Romans, this meant resisting the divisive and deceptive tactics described in verses 17–18, behind which is Satan’s influence (verse 20).
For us, it means refusing to participate in or be shaped by behaviors, attitudes, or strategies that compromise the gospel — even if they seem effective in the moment.
6.4 Tying It Back to the Three Priorities
Walking in the obedience of faith together flows directly from the three priorities of the church in their right order:
Go with the gospel — so that the obedience we walk in is always rooted in and propelled by faith in the gospel message itself.
Disciple Christians to go with the gospel — so that every member is equipped to live and speak the gospel in their daily contexts.
Defend the faith as you go — so that our guarding protects and promotes obedience of faith in the gospel, rather than replacing the gospel with rule-keeping or preference-guarding.
When the order is reversed, walking in the obedience of faith together is replaced with policing one another’s conformity to secondary matters. Unity fractures, mission stalls, and the gospel is overshadowed by internal disputes.
6.5 Obedience of Faith Producing Law-Keeping Love
As we saw in Romans 7:1–6 and Galatians 5:6, the obedience of faith produces the kind of love the law requires. This is how the law is fulfilled in the life of the church — not by striving to keep it in our own strength, but by walking in the Spirit, united to Christ.
Together, we bear fruit for God that reflects His character and advances His mission.
Walking in obedience together means:
—Encouraging one another in faith.
—Confronting sin in love.
—Forgiving as we’ve been forgiven.
—Pursuing what makes for peace and mutual upbuilding (Romans 14:19).
It’s a community project fueled by the gospel and empowered by the Spirit.
6.6 Romans 16:17–19 in This Light
Seen through the lens of the entire letter, the “obedience” Paul affirms in 16:19 is the obedience of faith. It is faith in the gospel he has proclaimed from the very first chapter.
Guarding the gospel from distortion is essential to preserving that obedience because faith rests on hearing the true message of Christ (Romans 10:17).
—In verse 17, Paul warns about those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the gospel teaching the Romans had received.
—In verse 18, he exposes their motives: they serve their own appetites and use smooth talk to deceive the naive.
—In verse 19, he affirms the Romans’ obedience and urges them to remain wise about good and pure from evil.
6.7 Guarding and Walking — Inseparable
Paul’s words in Romans 16:17–19 show that both guarding the gospel and walking in obedience are inseparable.
—Guarding without walking leads to stagnation.
—Walking without guarding leaves the gospel vulnerable to distortion.
The health of the church depends on doing both, in the right order, and in the power of the Spirit.
When the three priorities are in order, guarding the gospel strengthens our going, and going keeps our guarding mission-focused.
The obedience we walk in is then the obedience of faith — a life lived in reliance on Christ, producing the love the law was always pointing to.
6.8 Summary of Section 6
Walking in obedience together is not simply about avoiding sin or doing good deeds. It is about living out the obedience of faith in community — guarding the gospel’s clarity, advancing its mission, and producing the fruit of love through our union with Christ.
This is why Paul rejoiced over the Romans’ obedience and why he urged them to be wise about what is good and innocent about what is evil. Their shared life in Christ was both the fruit of the gospel and the means by which the gospel would continue to spread.
7. Word Studies and Biblical-Theological Notes
Romans 16:17–19 contains a cluster of key terms that sharpen our understanding of Paul’s instructions.
These words are not abstract theological vocabulary — they are chosen for precision, rooted in the Scriptures, and rich with background meaning from the Old Testament, the Septuagint (LXX), the wider New Testament, and even classical Greek.
7.1 σκοπέω — “Watch out” (Romans 16:17)
Definition: to “look at closely, observe attentively, keep your eye on.”
—Classical Greek: Used in military contexts for watching enemy movements; in philosophy for close examination of an idea or argument.
—Septuagint (LXX): Similar watchman imagery, e.g., Ezekiel 33:7; the prophet appointed as a “watchman” for Israel, combining vigilance with the duty to warn.
—New Testament: Philippians 3:17 — “keep your eyes on” those who live according to the example; Hebrews 12:15 — “see to it” that no one fails to obtain the grace of God.
In Romans 16:17:
This is not casual observation but active, intentional watchfulness — the kind a shepherd keeps over his flock or a sentry maintains at his post. In Paul’s framework, this vigilance is exercised “on mission,” in line with Jack Miller’s first priority (“go with the gospel”) and second (“disciple Christians to go”).
7.2 διχοστασία — “Divisions” (Romans 16:17)
Definition: separation, dissension, factionalism. From δίχα (“apart”) + στάσις (“standing”).
—Classical Greek: Used for political or civic discord — parties standing apart.
—LXX: Rare, but similar terms describe rebellion in Israel’s history (e.g., Korah’s rebellion, Numbers 16).
—NT: Galatians 5:20 — listed among the works of the flesh, alongside enmity, strife, jealousy.
In Romans 16:17:
Paul warns against people whose teaching or influence leads believers to “stand apart” from one another in ways contrary to the gospel.
—Classical Greek: Originally referred to the trigger of a trap — something that causes one to fall or be ensnared.
—LXX: Used for causes of sin or downfall (e.g., Leviticus 19:14, “do not put a stumbling block before the blind”).
—NT: Romans 9:33 and 1 Peter 2:8 — Christ Himself as the God-given “stumbling stone.” Here in Romans 16:17 — man-made obstacles “contrary to the doctrine” learned.
In Romans 16:17:
Paul distinguishes between the God-given stumbling block (Christ crucified) and false stumbling blocks — extra rules, cultural shibboleths, or human agendas that obscure Christ and burden consciences.
7.4 διδαχή — “Teaching / Doctrine” (Romans 16:17)
Definition: instruction, the content of what is taught.
—Classical Greek: General teaching or training.
—LXX: Often used for God’s instruction, particularly the Torah.
—NT: In Acts and the Epistles, διδαχή frequently refers to the apostolic teaching centered on Christ (Acts 2:42; 1 Timothy 4:13).
In Romans 16:17:
This is the gospel as Paul has expounded it throughout Romans — not abstract theory but the truth of Christ’s life, death, resurrection, reign, and return, with all its implications for life.
7.5 μανθάνω — “Learn” (Romans 16:17)
Definition: to gain knowledge through instruction and experience.
—Classical Greek: Learning through study or apprenticeship.
—LXX: Learning God’s ways, often tied to covenant obedience (Deut. 5:1).
—NT: Discipleship — learning in both word and deed (Matthew 11:29, “learn from me”).
In Romans 16:17:
Paul assumes the Romans’ “learning” has been experiential — the gospel taught and lived out in the community, not merely memorized.
7.6 ἐκκλίνω — “Avoid” (Romans 16:17)
Definition: to turn aside, keep away from.
—Classical Greek: To deviate from a course, physically or morally.
—LXX: Turning away from evil (Psalm 34:14; Proverbs 3:7).
—NT: 1 Peter 3:11 — “let him turn away from evil and do good.”
In Romans 16:17:
This is intentional avoidance — refusing to grant influence to those who persist in distorting the gospel or dividing the body.
7.7 κοιλία — “Appetite” (Romans 16:18)
Definition: literally “belly,” figuratively “desire” or “appetite.”
—Classical Greek: Physical stomach; also metaphor for greed or lust.
—LXX: Can refer to the seat of desire or inner being (Prov. 18:8).
—NT: Philippians 3:19 — “their god is their belly” (self-indulgence as idolatry).
In Romans 16:18:
Paul contrasts serving “our Lord Christ” with serving one’s own desires — a fundamental misalignment of allegiance.
—Classical Greek: Language meant to please, sometimes with manipulative intent.
—LXX: The idea appears in Proverbs’ warnings against flattering speech (Prov. 5:3; 7:21).
—NT: Unique to Romans 16:18.
In Romans 16:18:
This is persuasive speech that sounds kind and wise but works against the gospel’s truth.
7.9 ὑπακοή — “Obedience” (Romans 16:19)
Definition: from ὑπό (“under”) + ἀκούω (“to hear”), meaning attentive hearing that leads to submission or action.
—Classical Greek: Obedience in military, household, or legal contexts.
—LXX: Obedience to God’s voice (Deut. 28:1–2).
—NT: Romans 1:5; 16:26 — “obedience of faith.” John 3:36 — belief and obedience intertwined.
In Romans 16:19:
Paul commends the Romans’ obedience — not mere rule-keeping, but the faith-filled response to the gospel.
Summary of Section 7:
Every key term in Romans 16:17–19 is bound to Paul’s overarching aim: a church guarding the gospel in the midst of mission, walking together in the obedience of faith, and resisting the distortions and divisions that would derail that mission.
8. Practical and Theological Implications
Romans 16:17–19 is not simply a closing warning in Paul’s letter.
It gathers up key threads from the whole book and lays them alongside practical realities in church life.
The three priorities of the church — going with the gospel, discipling Christians to go, defending the faith as we go — form a lens through which to read and apply Paul’s words.
These priorities affect how we guard the gospel, how we walk in obedience, and how we avoid distortions that come from reversing the order.
8.1 Guarding on Mission vs. Guarding in Isolation
When guarding is in its rightful place as the third priority, it happens in the context of going and discipling:
—The church is already moving with the gospel.
—Watchfulness protects that advance, keeping the message clear and the mission unhindered.
Guarding on mission looks like:
—Testing teaching by the gospel’s content (Acts 17:11).
—Removing man-made stumbling blocks so only Christ is the offense (Romans 9:33; 1 Peter 2:8).
—Protecting unity so love commends the message (John 13:34–35).
When guarding becomes the first priority, the posture shifts:
—Energy is spent on policing boundaries rather than advancing the gospel.
—Suspicion replaces discernment; people are viewed as threats first, neighbors second.
—The mission field shrinks to those already inside, and even there, divisions multiply.
The contrast is stark:
—Guarding on mission protects so the gospel can keep moving forward.
—Guarding in isolation protects a static position, often at the cost of gospel clarity and unity.
8.2 The Three Priorities and the Shape of Teaching and Learning
When the first priority is going with the gospel:
—Teaching (διδαχή) centers on the fullness of the gospel — who Jesus is, what He has done, why it matters.
—Learning (μανθάνω) means internalizing that message, preaching it to oneself, practicing it with others, and living it out in the real world.
When the second priority is discipling Christians to go:
—Teaching is mission-shaped — designed to equip every member to speak the gospel into daily life.
—Learning is apprenticeship — hearing, seeing, and practicing gospel ministry alongside others.
When the third priority is defending the faith as you go:
—Teaching trains believers to identify distortions without losing gospel focus.
—Learning includes developing discernment, rooted in Scripture and shaped by mission needs.
If the order is reversed:
—Teaching can drift toward argument-winning rather than disciple-making.
—Learning becomes about memorizing defenses instead of knowing Christ.
—The gospel becomes assumed rather than taught — replaced by secondary concerns.
8.3 The Obedience of Faith in Personal and Corporate Life
Personal implications:
—The obedience of faith begins with hearing and believing the gospel (Romans 10:17).
—It continues by living in reliance on Christ (Colossians 2:6), bearing fruit that fulfills the law’s intent (Romans 8:4; Galatians 5:6).
—Guarding the gospel in daily life means filtering influences, teachings, and habits through the lens of the gospel.
Corporate implications:
—The church’s unity becomes a visible witness to the gospel (John 17:20–23).
—Guarding together means cultivating a culture where the gospel is spoken often, applied graciously, and defended wisely.
—Walking together in the obedience of faith means encouraging one another in belief, confronting sin in love, and keeping the main thing the main thing.
8.4 Implications for Apologetics, Theology, and Discipleship
When priorities are in order:
—Apologetics serves the mission. Defending the faith is aimed at removing barriers to hearing the gospel, not winning debates for pride’s sake.
—Theology is lived and shared, not just stored in books — doctrine is for worship, mission, and love.
—Discipleship multiplies gospel carriers, not just guardians.
When priorities are reversed:
—Apologetics can become combative, alienating those we aim to reach.
—Theology can turn into a badge of identity rather than a foundation for worship and service.
—Discipleship can focus on conformity to group norms rather than transformation in Christ.
8.5 Guarding and the Enemy’s Strategy
Paul’s warning in Romans 16:17–20 echoes Old Testament accounts where God turned enemy armies against themselves (Judges 7:22; 2 Chronicles 20:22–23).
The enemy can twist this tactic against the church — using division to halt gospel advance without ever engaging directly.
—Inward conflict drains energy from outward mission.
—Secondary battles distract from the main fight — proclaiming Christ.
—Suspicion erodes love, making the church less credible to those watching.
Guarding in mission-responsible ways is spiritual warfare — resisting the enemy’s attempt to replace God’s stumbling block (Christ) with our own.
8.6 The Gospel’s Reach — Inside and Outside
Guarding and going are not separate spheres — the gospel’s reach is always both:
—To unbelievers, calling them to the obedience of faith.
—To believers, reminding them of the same gospel in which they stand (1 Corinthians 15:1–2).
Paul was eager to preach the gospel “to you who are in Rome” (Romans 1:15) — to the church.
This guards against gospel-presumption — the drift that happens when we think we’ve “moved on” from the gospel to more advanced topics.
Summary of Section 8:
Guarding the gospel is not an end in itself — it is part of a movement.
When the three priorities of the church are in their right order, guarding protects clarity, going advances mission, and discipling multiplies carriers of the message.
Reversing the order blurs the gospel, breeds division, and confuses obedience.
The health and mission of the church depend on keeping these priorities aligned — and living them together.
Conclusion —The Three Priorities of the Church: Guarding the Gospel and Walking in the Obedience of Faith
Guard the Gospel and Walk in Obedience — Paul’s words in Romans 16:17–19 bring those two realities together in a way that’s both urgent and practical.
We’ve seen that guarding the gospel has a specific place in the life of the church. Jack Miller’s three priorities give us the framework:
Go with the gospel.
Disciple Christians to go with the gospel.
Defend the faith as you go.
Guarding is not a retreat into self-protection; it’s a forward-facing work that happens on mission. It’s the shield raised in the advance, not the wall we hide behind.
We’ve also seen that walking in obedience means living out “the obedience of faith” — God’s command to repent and believe the gospel, which unites us to Christ and by faith produces in us the law-keeping love the law has always required.
You cannot obey God’s law without first obeying the gospel. And you cannot guard the gospel well if your life, or your church, is not walking in that obedience of faith together.
Our first goal was that you would leave this essay knowing clearly what the three priorities of the church are, how guarding fits into them, and what happens when those priorities are reversed.
When the three priorities of the church are in order, guarding the gospel fuels gospel advance; when reversed, guarding fractures unity and distracts from the mission.
Our second goal was that you would leave this essay with the biblical apparatus to discern the difference between “the obedience of faith” and “obedience to the law.”
The obedience of faith is life in union with Christ, by the Spirit, producing the very love the law commands. It is the only way to truly keep the law in God’s sight.
So as we go with the gospel, the call is simple and profound: keep the mission moving.
Guard the message as you carry it.
Walk together in the obedience of faith, so that our life together commends the gospel we proclaim.
And trust the God who called you to finish what He started — in you, in this church, and in the advance of His kingdom.