Saturday, January 4, 2025

Are You Your Wife’s Biggest Cheerleader?

Wives need their husbands to encourage and affirm and cheer for them. It works both ways. 

In healthy, thriving marriages, husbands and wives are to be cheerleaders for one another. Smart husbands and smart wives know that the Bible is right on target when it says, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). Spoken words can destroy or empower. 

How do you and your spouse speak to each other? Do you build each other up? Or are your words critical and cutting? Think back to Dr. John Gottman’s four horsemen of the marriage apocalypse—criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling. It’s the words you use with one another—and the words you fail to say—that expose these corrosive elements in marriage. 

The Bible points us to a better way. In the book of James, our tongue is compared to a forest fire. In the same way that a simple spark can set acres ablaze, so a simple sentence can inflict great damage on a relationship. “No human being can tame the tongue,” James says. “It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My broth- ers, these things ought not to be so” (3:8–10). 

But there is an antidote to the deadly poison James talks about. It’s found in Ephesians 4. There we’re told we should “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear” (v. 29). 

That verse provides the road map for how we should and shouldn’t speak to one another in marriage. First, we’re to eliminate corrupting talk. In the original language, the word translated “corrupting” is most often associated with food that is spoiling or rotting. Not only does the decay make the rotten food inedible; it spreads and destroys any- thing and everything it touches. 

No doubt people have said things to you that have lodged in your soul and have had a putrefying effect on your self-confidence or your self-image. Maybe a careless or casual comment that another person made to you has haunted you for years. That’s the power of corrupting talk. Once a destructive seed is planted in your soul, the bitter fruit grows for a long time. What sprouts from those seeds can be quite difficult to uproot. 

Becoming an Enthusiastic Encourager 

The first step to becoming an enthusiastic encourager in your marriage is to guard your tongue. Eliminate any patterns of corrupting talk that may exist. 

I grew up in a home where we showed affection for one another by teasing each other. A little good-natured verbal sparring was part of how we related to one another. My wife grew up in a different environment. In her home, instead of good-natured teasing, there was sarcasm that was harsh and hurtful. To her, then, my family’s teasing came across entirely differently. 

Out of love for Mary Ann, I had to learn how to adjust the way I spoke to her. What seemed like harmless banter to me was corrupting talk for her. I could have easily dismissed her feelings and concluded that she was overreacting or being hypersensitive. But the truth was, my words were hurtful, not helpful, so I needed to get rid of them. 

Corrupting speech involves much more than sarcasm. Insults, profanity, lies or exaggeration, gossip, flattery, coarse jesting—these are just some ways in which our speech is dishonoring to God and can have a harmful effect on our marriage. 

Psalm 34:13 is clear: “Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit.” Eliminating corrupting talk in your marriage means you have to discipline yourself to think before you speak. You have to slow down, especially when you are stressed or angry. You have to weigh your words. You have to ask the question, will what I’m about to say tear down or build up my spouse? 

You can help one another in this area if you’re both humble and teachable. Cultivate the practice of asking one another a couple of times each week, “Have I said anything this week that has stuck with you that was hurtful or harmful?” If your spouse remembers something, don’t become defensive. Apologize. Seek forgiveness. The goal is to become more aware of how things we say casually or carelessly can do real damage to our relationships. 

Making it a priority to eliminate words that wound—corrupting talk—is how the journey toward being an enthusiastic encourager begins, but it doesn’t end there. Just as we were told to put off sinful thoughts and practices and replace them with godly ones, here we’re told that we should replace corrupting talk with words that are good for building up: words that give life, strength, and shelter to another person. 

Building One Another Up 

The word in the Bible that we translate “building up” or “edifying” is actually a construction word. I don’t know if you’ve ever followed a building project from the beginning stages of raw land and a dream through to the ribbon cut- ting, but it’s a fascinating process to watch. First, blueprints are created. Then the ground is prepared. A foundation is planned and poured. From there, the frame goes up, and the structure begins to take shape. It takes months of planning and labor for the building to emerge. But every step of the way, every person that is involved in the project, every nail that is pounded, every brick that is laid, every pipe that is fitted, and every piece of drywall that is hung—everything moves the project forward toward its ultimate goal. 

As the spouse God has given your husband or wife, you are one of the means he uses to build them up. And you want your words to help them live out their identity as a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). With anything you say to your spouse, you should pause first and ask yourself, Will what I’m about to say make him or her stronger? More stable? More durable? 

 In addition to building your spouse up, your speech is supposed to fit the occasion. It’s not just what you say that matters. When you say it, how you say it, where you say it—all of it is important. What time of day is best for this conversation? Should what I have to say be shared in private and not in front of others? If your spouse is focused on something else at the moment—like the last two minutes of a close game on TV—unless the house is on fire or there is some other emergency at hand, it’s a good idea to push pause and hold off on the conversation. 

Fitting the occasion is not only a question of time or place. You need to take your spouse’s mental and emotional state into account. Show empathy: as you think about how and when to engage in a particular conversation, ask yourself about your spouse’s current frame of mind. Through the years, my wife learned that first thing in the morning is not a good time to try to initiate a significant conversation with me. And I knew that right before bedtime was a bad time for her. We had to find ways to carve out the right moments for important conversations to happen. And honestly, there were times when it wasn’t easy! But we found it was better to have the interaction at the right time for both of us than it was for us to try to rush things. 

Leave Room for Grace 

 Finally, Ephesians 4:29 says that our words should always “give grace to those who hear.” The best way to think about giving grace to someone is by asking if what we’re about to say is going to be a gift or a lump of coal. Even then, even when we do our best to use carefully chosen words, we need to recognize that when we speak the truth in love (Ephesians 4:15) the truth can be hard to hear. Grace-filled speech can still be hurtful. The Bible calls them “the wounds of a friend” (Proverbs 27:6), but they’re still wounds. 

We don’t have to scroll through social media long to find examples of speech that lacks grace, speech that tears down. But with grace, we are able to be agreeable, even when we disagree. We make room for the reality of imperfection. We take our shared frail humanity into account. We choose to overlook. We forgive. And our words reflect that perspective. In Colossians 4 we see another aspect of grace-filled words. There we’re told that our speech should always be “gracious, seasoned with salt” (v. 6). That’s a curious expression until we think about the properties of salt. In the ancient world, it was used to preserve meat from decay and rot. It was put into a wound to prevent infection. It was also used as it is today, to make food more flavorful. Words that are full of grace keep rot out of a relationship and keep our wounds from becoming abscessed. Words seasoned with grace promote harmony and unity, not division and strife. 

Your marriage should be like the “Home on the Range,” “where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day.” The best marriages are filled with grace that pours forth in enthusiastic encouragement for one another. That’s something worth cheering about. 

By bestselling author and longtime FamilyLife Today cohost Bob Lepine. Excerpted from Build a Stronger Marriage: The Path to Oneness © 2022 by Bob Lepine. Used with permission of New Growth Press.

Friday, January 3, 2025

The Strength of Gentleness

Gentleness is often misunderstood. When we think of a man being gentle, we might picture some guy
being weak or timid, but that’s not what gentleness truly means. In fact, gentleness is a strength of character—a willingness to humble ourselves and put others first, even when we have the power to act differently. 

Many great men throughout history have displayed gentleness in remarkable ways, showing us that true greatness is not about asserting power but about choosing humility and self-control. 

The Bible has a lot to say about gentleness. Jesus Christ is described as being "gentle and lowly in heart" (Matt. 11:29). He had all power and authority as God, yet He chose to serve others rather than demand respect. He lived a life of perfect gentleness, teaching us that gentleness doesn’t mean weakness but strength under control. The quiet intensity of self-control is severely lacking in so-called "Reformed social media." 

The apostle Paul also described gentleness as a critical character trait for Christians to develop. In his letters, he called believers to be "clothed with humility" and to "bear with one another" in love (Col. 3:12). Paul himself displayed gentleness: not using his authority to control others, but rather leading by example, putting the needs of others before his own, and demonstrating compassion for the weaker brother. 

Gentleness doesn’t mean being passive or weak. Instead, it’s about having the strength to control one’s emotions and actions, especially in difficult situations. It’s choosing humility over pride and service over selfishness. It’s also about using our power and influence in ways that help others rather than in ways that seek to control them. 

In a world filled with self-appointed "big men" asserting power and preeminence over others, the Christian virtue of gentleness reminds us that true strength comes down to lowly, little us from heaven above. When received by men with humility, this celestial strength is gentle, patient, and kind in properly masculine ways. Great leaders throughout history have shown that gentleness is a powerful force. It’s not about standing back, being passive, or doing nothing but about acting with wisdom, patience, and love. 

Men marked by gentleness inspire us all to be humble, to listen up, and to act with decisive kindness. By doing so, we can build each other up rather than put or tear each other down. 

by Zachary Groff, the pastor of Antioch Presbyterian Church in Woodruff, South Carolina.

Thursday, January 2, 2025

How Healthy Is Your Soul? Six Questions for a New Year

“I will cool you insensibly, by degrees, by little and little.” 

At the end of one year, on the cusp of another, I remember the words that once haunted the soul of seventeenth-century pastor John Bunyan (1628–1688). He imagined the devil skulking nearby, not as a raging dragon but as a patient and calculating snake, as one who waits “until an opportune time” (Luke 4:13). 

“What care I,” the tempter says, “though I be seven years in chilling your heart if I can do it at last? Continual rocking will lull a crying child asleep. I will ply it close, but I will have my end accomplished” (Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, 44). 

The devil uses many weapons in his assault against our soul, but one of the most overlooked is simply time. We are changeable creatures in a long war, called to “resist the devil” not for a day or a week or a year but a life (James 4:7). And spiritual health yesterday does not guarantee spiritual health today. 

So, at the end of a new year, on the edge of another, let’s stop to take some spiritual vitals. How healthy is your soul? 

Six Questions for the Soul 

Bunyan is not the only one who would call us to take heed. Strewn throughout Scripture, prophets and apostles, wise men and the God-man all urge us to watch ourselves, pay attention to ourselves, and stay awake “lest we drift away” (Hebrews 2:1). Unless we keep our hearts “with all vigilance” (Proverbs 4:23), they will not be kept. 

To get started, we might focus our attention on six of the most important areas of the Christian life: our heart, our habits, our hope, our enemies, our friends, and our neighbors. 

1. Your heart: Do you desire God? 

Proverbs exhorts us to keep our heart with all vigilance because “from it flow the streams of life” (Proverbs 4:23). If this fountain is polluted, all is polluted. If the heart is lost, all is lost. And at the center of a healthy heart — its strong beat and lifeblood — is deep desire for God. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart” (Deuteronomy 6:5). 

What, then, does your desire for God look like right now? With David, has “the beauty of the Lord” become your “one thing,” the chief of your prayers and the cream of your pleasures (Psalm 27:4)? Would you say with Asaph that God himself is your heaven and that earth holds no rival to him (Psalm 73:25)? Can your heart sing with Paul of “the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord” (Philippians 3:8)? 

God made us to hunger and thirst for him (Psalm 42:2), to faint and yearn for him (Psalm 63:1), to feel his absence like death and his presence like resurrection morning. He made us to desire him. 

Of course, our delight in God rises and falls throughout this fallen life. Not even the most mature saint lives with a continual sense of God’s nearness. But as Don Whitney writes, “It’s one thing to long for a sense of God’s presence while not experiencing it, and another to live routinely with no awareness of his absence” (Ten Questions to Diagnose Your Spiritual Health, 61). 

So, do you desire him — either with joy over his nearness or with grief over his seeming distance? Or has 

your heart grown cold to the one whose steadfast love is better than life (Psalm 63:3)? 

2. Your habits: Do you draw near to God? 

Typically, the health of our heart today reflects the health of our habits in recent weeks and months. A cold heart often betrays a closed Bible. A numb heart often tells of a neglected prayer life. And so our habits today prophesy the future state of our heart. 

Public habits (like regular fellowship and corporate worship) are crucial for keeping the heart. But private habits may call for even closer attention because of how easily we can omit them without others noticing. No one sees whether we meditate on Scripture or visit the prayer closet or fast, and therefore no one sees whether we don’t. But so often, these private habits, these secret resolves, build the walls that keep our hearts. 

Consider, then, the last month or two. How often (and with how much pleasure) have you prayed to “your Father who sees in secret” (Matthew 6:6)? How regularly (and with how much delight) have you meditated on his life-giving instruction (Psalm 1:2–3)? How familiar or foreign is the testimony of Robert Murray M‘Cheyne (1813–1843), who once journaled, “Rose early to seek God, and found him whom my soul loveth. Who would not rise early to meet such company?” (Memoir and Remains, 23). 

3. Your hope: Do you live heavenly minded? 

Near the heart of our faith lies the hope that one day soon, we will live with God in a world without end. We will shed this mortal body for one immortal, these tears for songs of joy, this thorn-cursed land for “a better country” (Hebrews 11:16). We will awake to the face our souls were made to see, whose gaze will slay our remnant sin and fill our hearts to breaking with happiness (1 Corinthians 13:12; 1 John 3:2). 

“A cold heart often betrays a closed Bible. A numb heart often tells of a neglected prayer life.” 

Such we declare by faith. Do we also declare it by life? Would anyone, catching a smile on our face, ask the reason for our joy and hear the answer “heaven”? Does the weight of coming glory put our pain into perspective, such that we groan without grumbling and lament without losing hope (2 Corinthians 4:16–5:2)? Do we marry and buy and sell and laugh and mourn as if “the present form of this world is passing away” (1 Corinthians 7:31), as if the life we know now will soon crash upon the shores of eternity? 

The heavenly minded are known by their stubborn joy in sorrow, their modest expectations for this world, their stability in societal chaos, and their willingness to risk and sacrifice like heaven will make up for every lost comfort here.

 4. Your enemies: Do you let nothing dominate you? 

Christians may have human enemies (Matthew 5:44), and we certainly have demonic enemies (Ephesians 6:12), but our most dangerous enemies are neither human nor demonic, but fleshly (1 Peter 2:11). We wage a war within, with armies of “deceitful desires” attacking territory that Christ has reclaimed (Ephesians 4:22). 

As we study these enemies, Paul’s response to the Corinthians may focus our eyes where we don’t think to look: 

“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be dominated by anything. (1 Corinthians 6:12) 

Often, the enemies that cost us most dearly appear lawful, at least at first. They aren’t black-and-white evil, but dangerously gray. Christian freedom assures us that we can venture here without guilt; our 

conscience becomes accustomed to the arrangement. We can watch these videos, follow these influencers, have this many drinks, notice this person’s beauty, post these thoughts online, spend this much time scrolling, or indulge these fantasies of a different life. 

Each of these may be lawful and innocent — and each may eventually dominate us, leading either to a painful fall or a lukewarm life. If we wonder whether any activity, pleasure, or line of thought holds undue sway over us, we might ask ourselves, Could I give this up for the next year? If the answer is no, or if the answer is yes in our head but no in our heart, then we are no longer dealing with something lawful. We are dealing with a dominator, an enemy dressed in innocence. 

5. Your friends: Do you practice the one-another commands? 

In Christ, we are no longer by ourselves — no longer independent or autonomous or unattached. We are members of a body (1 Corinthians 12:12), stones in a holy structure (1 Peter 2:5), siblings in a family (Ephesians 2:19). We are our brother’s keeper, and our brother is ours. 

The one-another commands in the New Testament sketch our familial callings; they are the code of God’s household. As we obey them, we not only live out our identity in Christ but also become channels of God’s grace to each other. The one-anothers are one of the primary ways God matures his children and keeps them till glory. 

We might capture the thrust of these commands under five heads:

 • Have Christ’s humble mind (Philippians 2:3; 1 Peter 5:5). 

• Offer Christ’s impartial welcome (Romans 12:16; 15:7; 1 Peter 4:9). 

• Speak Christ’s tough and tender words (Colossians 3:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:11; Hebrews 3:13). 

• Show Christ’s practical love (1 Thessalonians 5:15; 1 Peter 4:10; Galatians 6:2). 

• Give Christ’s forgiving grace (Ephesians 4:2, 32). 

As you remember the last year in your local church, can you think of specific Christians who are more holy, more Christlike, because of your presence in their life? Have you given your pastors reason to lead “with joy and not with groaning” because of the ways you have cheerfully followed their lead (Hebrews 13:17)? Have you spoken any words bracing enough to bring back a wandering soul? 

6. Your neighbors: Do you make Christ known? 

Finally, consider the world outside yourself and the church. Survey your neighborhood, your city, your campus or workplace, and the nations where Christ has not yet been named. The last command Jesus gave us was to “make disciples” (Matthew 28:19). Do we? 

No doubt, rhythms of evangelism and disciple-making will vary across our life stages. Personally, I can testify that making Jesus known looks different as a father of young children than it did as a college student. But no life stage exempts us from the grand adventure of the Great Commission. Nor can a genuinely Christian heart rest satisfied on the sidelines of God’s kingdom advance. 

So, has your Christian life run into the predictable ruts of churchly activity, or do you still know the thrill of following Jesus to people and places you would never approach otherwise? Do you still look strange to a world estranged from God — speaking strange words, hosting strange neighbors, taking strange risks for the sake of his name? And even in the midst of a busy life — with little kids or elderly parents or heavy work demands — do you nevertheless yearn to somehow make Jesus known? 

Toward a Warmer Heart 

The more tender among us might finish these questions feeling freshly discouraged or even condemned. The accuser of God’s children knows how to turn self-examination into an exercise in self-damnation. But the point of searching questions is not to dig ourselves into a pit of misery — not for those who belong to Jesus. 

Richard Sibbes writes, “If we have this for a foundation truth, that there is more mercy in Christ than sin in us, there can be no danger in thorough dealing” (The Bruised Reed, 12). We can dare to deal honestly with our sins because Jesus has already dealt mercifully with us. And so he always will. 

So no, the purpose of these questions is not to condemn, but rather to expose any area where we have cooled insensibly, by degrees, by little and little. And therefore the purpose of these questions is to draw us nearer to the Lord who has warmth enough to melt our coldness, if only we bring ourselves close to him. 

Where, then, have you grown cold? In heart, in habits, in hope? Toward your enemies, your friends, your neighbors? Take that coldness to Jesus Christ. Receive “the abundance of grace” he has to offer (Romans 5:17). And then consider how you might recover a warmer spirit and walk more closely with him this year. 

by Scott Hubbard is the managing editor for Desiring God, a pastor at All Peoples Church, and a graduate of Bethlehem College and Seminary. He and his wife, Bethany, live with their three sons in Minneapolis.

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Hope is Not Found in Your Pursuit of God

Hope in this life and the one to come is found not in your pursuit of God, but in the grace of his choosing to make a covenant with you.

“Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed’” (Gen. 12:1–3).

Read these verses again. There may be no more important passage in the Old Testament than this one. The apostle Paul knew the thunderous, redemptive significance of this moment when he wrote:

“Know then that it is those of faith who are the sons of Abraham. And the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith. . . . And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise.” (Gal. 3:7–9, 29)

God’s covenant with Abram was vastly more than him shining favor on one ancient man and his family. Embedded in God’s promise to Abram was blessing that would extend to the whole earth. This groaning, sin-scarred world, with all of its inescapable sin and suffering, finds its hope in the blessings of grace that were poured down upon Abram and his descendants. How do we know this? Paul’s words make it clear when he connects Abraham to Christ; the promises made to Abraham belong to all who are united to Christ by grace through faith.

Today, your hope as a mom or dad, a husband or wife, a young or elderly person, a man or woman, a child or teenager, a worker or boss, a friend or neighbor is not to be found in your position, prominence, money, accomplishments, family, or talents. It is not to be found in your wisdom, strength, or track record of obedience. It is found in one thing and one thing alone: as an act of undeserved and sovereign grace, God chose to include you in the eternal blessings of his covenant promises. You could never have achieved, deserved, or earned your place of glory and grace at God’s everlasting covenant table.

No matter how biblically literate you are, no matter how long you have known the Lord, no matter how theologically astute you are, and no matter how spiritually mature you have become, you have hope now and forever not because of any of these things, but because God chose to include you in the covenant promises he made to Abraham. Celebrate this amazing grace today and all the days that follow.

By Paul David Tripp from Everyday Gospel: A Daily Devotional Connecting Scripture to All of Life https://a.co/d/hjWw7rs

Holy Bravery: How Christian Men Act Like Men

Brothers, how do we obey the command to “be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong” (1 Corinthians 16:13)? How do we who are men act like men? 

 “Act like men” is one word in Greek (andrizomai) — what does it mean? Perhaps it stands as a billboard for the masculine commands surrounding it in the verse. 

To act like men means that you watch. You survey threats toward your family, your church, and your soul. You scan for wolves, demons, your own and others’ damnable sins. You watch, like a soldier, like a man. 

To act like a man means that you stand firm in the faith. To be a man is not to possess great wealth but to be possessed by a great God, to make your allegiances known and be ready to suffer consequences rather than compromise — even if you stand alone. 

To act like a man means to be strong — not that you can bench three hundred pounds but that you do not faint in the day of adversity. The doctor calls with unexpected results; your own son turns from the Lord; your wife of decades is taken home in a moment. Walls close in. Satan tells you to curse God and die, to quit, to stay down. Instead, you roll over to your knees and cry, “The Lord has given and taken away — blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). 

To act like a man is to do all that you do in love (1 Corinthians 16:14). When you watch, you do not watch as a mercenary but as a father, a husband, a pastor. When you stand firm in the faith, it’s no mere duty but love for Christ. You refuse the darkness not because you’re “better than that,” but because your Jesus is better than that. 

Old Testament Roots 

These surrounding commands bolster, but do not exhaust, what it means to act like a man. Though appearing only here in the New Testament, andrizomai has roots in the Greek Old Testament, through which it becomes a wardrobe into Narnia. There we find more than precepts and sentences; we get pictures and stories. 

 “Act like a man” has a rich biblical history, and perhaps the most prominent story is that of Joshua. In Joshua’s story, we observe that to “act like a man” is not merely to be courageous but to act from a holy bravery. 

Many godless men have been courageous in war. Accounts of D-Day report that so many bullets were flying they created wind. Photos show heroic soldiers sitting in boats, waiting to enter that tornado. But when Christians “act like men,” we want to act like men of God. Joshua will help. 

Sevenfold Command 

We enter Joshua’s story as he and the Israelites wait on the border of the promised land. The forty years of marching have ended; graves of the faithless generation litter the wilderness. 

 God commands this race of former slaves to risk life and limb based on his promise. By human standards, this is to be a series of suicide missions. Outnumbered, outskilled, out-positioned, they were told to conquer foes fiercer, more numerous, and better fortified. Hordes of strong men swarm behind high walls, and Israel is told to attack. 

And not just to attack stronger armies but to aggress under strange and otherwise foolish conditions. At their first conquest, Jericho, God halts the provision of their forty-year supply of miracle bread, tells them to cross the Jordan during flood season, and commands them to expose their full army to enemy eyes in broad daylight for seven straight days — and that not long after an army-wide circumcision. And then comes the strategy of crumbling double-walled fortification with mere sound. 

These men must risk brutal death on what seems foolish tactics. They will need to act like men. In the Greek Old Testament, the charge appears seven times in Deuteronomy 31 and Joshua 1 — from Moses to the people (Deuteronomy 31:6), from Moses to Joshua (Deuteronomy 31:7), from God to Joshua (Deuteronomy 31:23; Joshua 1:6, 7, 9), and from the people to Joshua (Joshua 1:18). 

So, what can we learn about acting like men from these repeated calls on the edge of the promised land? 

1. To act like men is to obey through adversity. 

Already we observe the context for acting like men is not abundance, peacetime, or comfort but rather hardship, conflict, and danger. Mature men act with wisdom when hearts pound, palms sweat, cancer spreads. The brightest backdrop for masculine deeds is when enemies oppose, trials await, and sacrifice is required. 

On the edge of the promised land, we see that to act like a man is to behave daringly, heroically, moving forward — even when your flesh, the world, and its common sense tells you to retreat. Why? Because God commands it. “We are not interested in courage for courage’s sake; we want courage for Christ’s sake.” 

We are not interested in courage for courage’s sake; we want courage for Christ’s sake. Our acting like men is first our obedience to God: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and act like a man” (Joshua 1:9). To act like a man is to know that we are but men who must answer to our Creator. It is he who made us men — designed our nature more aggressive, our bodies stronger, our dispositions firmer — and we ought to yield our manhood to him, not to ourselves, idols, or Satan. We act like men in obedience to God’s command to man up. 

2. To act like men is to act on God’s promises. 

 God’s promises do not negate our action — they embolden our action. Israel will have the land he has promised — but they still must fight. We read that God will have a people for himself, so we share the gospel. We read that God is beautifying his church, so we pull brothers aside and ask about sin. As a result, to act like men is to expect success in your labors — not because you are great, but because God has promised. 

On the border of the promised land, God does not just command his men to blindly risk; he discloses the sure results of their faithfulness. Go forward, be strong, act like men — why? Because your God “will destroy these nations before you” and “will give them over to you” (Deuteronomy 31:3–6). 

God speaks the same to stir Joshua: 

"No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your life. . . . Be strong and act like a man, for you shall cause this people to inherit the land that I swore to their fathers to give them." (Joshua 1:5–6) 

And Joshua passes on this lesson in dramatic fashion, placing the feet of Israel’s leaders on the necks of five conquered enemy kings, saying, Do not be afraid or dismayed; be strong and act like men. For thus the Lord will do to all your enemies against whom you fight. (Joshua 10:25) 

Israel’s hope was not good vibes; they did not speak their destiny into existence or wish upon a star. God gave them promises — not of ease or comfort or even that each soldier would survive, but of ultimate victory. Do we not have more glorious promises in our account? “To the one who conquers,” Jesus says, “I will grant to eat of the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God” (Revelation 2:7). 

3. To act like men is to act with God. 

Worldlings and men of the flesh think to act like a man is to act without help, to be a self-made man. In contrast, Moses directs Israel, 

"Be strong and act like a man. Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you." (Deuteronomy 31:6) 

And again and again and again to Joshua: “I will be with you. . . . Just as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you or forsake you. . . . Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Deuteronomy 31:23; Joshua 1:5, 9). 

What distinguishes the Christian man acting like a man? The Christian man who acts like a man expects his God to act in his acting. In other words, our strength is not in our strength. “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might” (Ephesians 6:10). David’s manly song is to wait on the Lord: “Wait for the Lord; act like men, and let your heart become strong; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14, LXX, my translation). 

 On the borders of the next world, we wait upon God, and while we do, we attempt great things for him because he is with us. Spurgeon put it memorably this way: 

 "Launch out into the deep. Do not always keep on fishing for shrimps along the shore. Attempt great things for God. Attempt something which as yet you cannot do. Any fool can do what he can do; it is only the believer who does what he cannot do. “Is anything too hard for the Lord?” Fall back upon omnipotence, and then go forward in the strength of it."

Any fool can do what he alone can do. Only the man of God might do what only God can do. 

4. To act like men is to act with other men for the good of God’s people. 

The command to act like a man is given to Joshua individually, Israel’s leaders specifically, and the entire community broadly. In 1 Corinthians 16:13, Paul addresses the whole church to act like men. Their faith-filled manful action is to be done together as a corporate body with many diverse members. We will all either aid each other unto glory or help destroy each other by unbelief. 

 Courage and cowardice are both contagious. Men need to see other men acting like men. Other men need to see us acting like men. This is wonderfully illustrated with Joab and his brother Abishai. When their army is attacked from the front and the rear. Joab splits his troops, puts Abishai in charge of the other half, and calls back to him, 

"If the Syrians are too strong for me, then you shall help me, but if the Ammonites are too strong for you, then I will help you. Act like a man, and let us use our strength for our people and for the cities of our God, and may the Lord do what seems good to him." (1 Chronicles 19:12–13) 

We are to “act like men and use our strength for our people and for the cities of our God,” letting the Lord do what seems good to him. And we call out to one another, “If this trial or temptation be too strong for me, then you shall help me, but if that trial is too strong for you, then I will help you.” 

5. To act like men is to follow our greater Joshua. 

Israel was not a headless body; God’s people followed his appointed leader — Joshua. And Christian men follow a glorious head as well. It is fitting that Jesus and Joshua share the same name in Scripture (Yeshua in Hebrew). Joshua was a shadow of the better Joshua to come. 

Brothers, we live upon the border of eternity. A restless evil threatens our families, our churches, our communities. Enemies fierce and fortified block the way — we are outflanked, outnumbered, outmanned, and even outspecied: 

“We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). 

But a Leader stands among us, goes with us and before us, one who is strong and has quitted himself most excellently throughout his sojourn on earth. Our Joshua did not enter the promised land; he descended from it. He didn’t simply play the man; he became a man. He didn’t need courage to slay his enemies but patience to keep from destroying his foes prematurely. Our Joshua didn’t have an Abishai to guard his back. When he faced down death, no one came to his rescue. He acted upon God’s promises — but those promises guaranteed God’s wrath and his death. 

But then he rose. 

We do not just follow the crucified Christ but one resurrected. “God raised him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for him to be held by it” (Acts 2:24). One does not arrive at chapter 16 of 1 Corinthians without first passing chapter 15, the great chapter of our King’s resurrection — and ours. Jesus is risen, he is risen indeed! And in him, we will rise too. Is there any army so formidable as one unafraid of death? Who better to play the man than immortal men? 

 Men, by faith, feel the necks of sin and death and sorrow under your feet, and hear your Lord saying, “Do not be afraid or dismayed; be strong and act like men. For thus the Lord will do to all your enemies against whom you fight” (Joshua 10:25). See him ride upon a white horse, a sword in his mouth, fire in his eyes. Upon his thigh is written, “King of kings and Lord of lords.” Scars upon his hands mark him as the man of war. Surely we can play the man with such a Christ with us. To act like men is to act like him, with him, until we see him face to face. 

By Greg Morse, a staff writer for Desiring God and graduate of Bethlehem College and Seminary. He and his wife, Abigail, live in Saint Paul with their son and three daughters.