by Jonathan Powers | Jul 13, 2026 | Uncategorized
Bearing the Name of Christ
by Pastor Omar
There are moments in ministry that remind us how desperately the world longs for hope. Living and serving in the Middle East has provided many such moments. They do not always occur in dramatic settings. More often they happen over a shared meal, while drinking tea with a neighbor, or during an ordinary conversation with someone who quietly asks questions about Jesus that they have carried for years. These encounters serve as a constant reminder that behind every face is a person created in the image of God, someone for whom Christ died, and someone who may never hear the gospel unless a believer is willing to speak.
In many parts of the world, sharing the gospel carries significant risks. There are places where openly professing Christ can cost a person friendships, employment, family relationships, or even personal safety. Yet it is precisely in these settings that the words of Jesus take on renewed clarity: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses” (Acts 1:8). Notice that Jesus did not present witnessing as an optional ministry reserved for a select few. He described it as the natural vocation of every disciple empowered by the Holy Spirit.
Too often, however, Christians have come to believe that evangelism belongs primarily to pastors, missionaries, or professional ministry leaders. We applaud those who travel across the globe, support them financially, pray for their work, and rejoice when we hear stories of lives transformed by the gospel. All of these are important expressions of partnership in God’s mission. Yet there remains a subtle temptation to assume that because someone else has answered the missionary call, our own responsibility has somehow diminished.
The New Testament simply does not permit such thinking.
Before His ascension, Jesus entrusted His followers with what has come to be known as the Great Commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19–20). These words were not spoken exclusively to future missionaries. They were given to the Church. Every generation of believers inherits this commission, and every disciple shares in its responsibility.
The Apostle Peter reinforces this truth by reminding ordinary Christians that they are “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Our identity and our mission are inseparable. We have been saved not merely to enjoy the blessings of redemption but to proclaim the Redeemer Himself.
Serving in the Middle East has repeatedly illustrated this reality. Many people here have never opened a Bible. Some have only heard distorted descriptions of Christianity through history, politics, or cultural misunderstandings. Others have met very few followers of Christ personally. For many, the first meaningful encounter with Christianity comes not through a sermon or a church service but through the life of a faithful believer who demonstrates kindness, integrity, humility, and genuine love.
This should not surprise us. Jesus Himself declared, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). Our lives often become the first testimony others encounter before they ever hear our words.
Yet witness involves more than exemplary conduct alone. While compassion opens doors, the gospel itself must eventually be spoken. Paul asks a series of penetrating questions in Romans 10: “How are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?” (Romans 10:14). The implication is unmistakable. People cannot respond to a message they have never received.
This does not mean every conversation must become a theological debate or that every Christian must possess extensive apologetic training. Faithful witness often begins with something much simpler: sharing how Christ has transformed one’s own life, offering to pray with someone in a moment of need, extending forgiveness when wronged, demonstrating compassion toward the lonely, or gently explaining the hope that sustains us through suffering.
Peter encourages believers, “Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence” (1 Peter 3:15–16). The manner of our witness matters as much as its content. The gospel is never advanced through coercion, arrogance, or hostility. It is shared through truth spoken in love, with humility and deep respect for those made in God’s image.
One of the great privileges of ministry in the Middle East is witnessing how the Holy Spirit prepares hearts long before any missionary arrives. Conversations that seem accidental often reveal years of spiritual searching. Questions emerge that no one could have anticipated. Individuals who appear entirely uninterested in Christianity sometimes become the most eager students of Scripture. Again and again we are reminded that conversion is ultimately God’s work, not ours. This realization is profoundly freeing.
Too often Christians hesitate to share their faith because they fear rejection or worry they will not know how to answer every question. Yet Scripture never places the burden of conversion upon believers. Our responsibility is faithfulness; God’s responsibility is transformation. Paul captured this beautifully when writing to the Corinthians: “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Corinthians 3:6). Some believers plant seeds. Others nurture growing faith. Still others have the privilege of witnessing someone embrace Christ. Every role matters because every role participates in God’s work.
The Church must resist the temptation to measure evangelistic success only by visible results. Faithfulness cannot always be quantified. Many conversations bear fruit years later. Some seeds lie dormant until circumstances awaken spiritual hunger. Others may never produce visible results during our lifetime. Yet none of these outcomes diminish the importance of obedient witness.
Indeed, some of the earliest Christians understood this reality well. They proclaimed Christ despite persecution, imprisonment, and even death. Their confidence rested not in favorable circumstances but in the risen Lord who had conquered death itself. Their witness transformed the ancient world precisely because they believed the gospel was worth every sacrifice. That same conviction is desperately needed today.
Western culture increasingly encourages Christians to privatize faith, treating religious belief as something deeply personal but rarely discussed publicly. While wisdom and discernment are certainly necessary, silence can never become our default posture. Jesus warned, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid… let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14, 16). Light fulfills its purpose only when it shines.
Likewise, Paul reminds believers that God “has entrusted the message of reconciliation to us” and therefore “we are ambassadors for Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:19–20). Ambassadors do not represent themselves. They faithfully represent the one who sent them. Every Christian, regardless of occupation, education, or stage of life, serves as Christ’s representative wherever God has placed them. That means our mission field may look different from someone else’s, but we all have one.
For some, it is the workplace. For others, it is a university campus, a neighborhood, a local coffee shop, or a family gathering. Parents disciple children. Students influence classmates. Retirees invest in younger generations. Business owners shape workplace cultures. Every believer occupies spaces where the gospel can be faithfully embodied and proclaimed.
It is easy to admire stories from distant mission fields while overlooking the opportunities God places directly before us each day. Yet the same Holy Spirit who empowers believers serving in the Middle East also empowers Christians serving faithfully in their own communities. Geography changes; the mission does not.
The Church has always grown through ordinary believers who understood that following Jesus necessarily includes bearing witness to Him. The spread of Christianity throughout history has depended not only upon famous evangelists or celebrated missionaries but upon countless unnamed disciples whose quiet faithfulness introduced friends, neighbors, coworkers, and family members to Christ.
Perhaps that is exactly how God intends His kingdom to advance.
As we look at the needs of our world, it is tempting to believe someone else will carry the message. Surely another church will reach that neighborhood. Surely another missionary will go to that nation. Surely another Christian will speak to that coworker. Yet every time we assume someone else will act, we risk neglecting the very opportunity God has entrusted to us.
The question is not whether the Church has been commissioned to witness. That question has already been answered by Christ Himself. The question is whether each of us will personally embrace that calling.
We need not fear because we do not go alone. The Great Commission concludes with one of Scripture’s greatest promises: “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). The One who sends us also accompanies us. The Holy Spirit continues to empower ordinary believers to accomplish extraordinary work through simple acts of faithful obedience.
May we therefore refuse the comfort of passive Christianity. May we pray intentionally for opportunities to share Christ. May we live lives worthy of the gospel we proclaim. May our compassion reflect His heart, our words communicate His truth, and our actions point unmistakably to His grace.
Whether serving across the world or across the street, every follower of Jesus has been entrusted with the same sacred calling: to bear witness to the Savior who has redeemed us.
So let us not wait for someone else to tell the story of Jesus. Let us tell it ourselves. Let us bear His name with humility, courage, and love. Let us speak of the hope that has transformed our lives. And let us remember that every conversation, every act of kindness, every prayer offered in faith, and every faithful testimony may become the means by which another person encounters the living Christ.
The harvest is still plentiful. The gospel is still the power of God for salvation (Romans 1:16). The Holy Spirit is still at work. The question is simple: Will we be His witnesses?
Pastor Omar is a pseudonym used to protect the identity of a Christian missionary serving in a sensitive region of the Middle East. Because of the nature of his ministry and the security risks faced by local believers and gospel workers, his real name and identifying details have been withheld. He continues to serve faithfully among communities where following and sharing Christ often comes at significant personal cost.
by Jonathan Powers | Jul 7, 2026 | Uncategorized
Spiritual Leverage
by Mike Powers
Katherine Lee Bates was inspired to write the poem America the Beautiful after a visit to Pikes Peak in 1893 in a covered wagon with fellow teachers from Colorado College. Little did she know that those words would become one of the most patriotic songs in the history of our country. As we celebrate the 250th birthday of our nation, America the Beautiful is being sung with passion and pride in concerts, churches and ballparks across the land as a tribute to the highest ideals of our nation. The refrain is a supplication for God’s intervention:
“America! America! God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!”
Contemplating the familiar words of this refrain, one must wonder why should God shed His grace upon our country and crown our goodness with brotherhood? This is a proper prayer and noble notion, but as inspiring as these words may be, are they taken seriously? An adage goes, “Methodists don’t tell lies; they sing them.” When Americans sing America the Beautiful with such devotion and passion, do we sincerely desire the intervention of God’s Spirit and seriously yearn for unity across our nation or are these merely words we mindlessly sing in church on national holidays?
We also may ask why we dare to ask God to be gracious to the United States of America? We obviously need such an infusion of divine benevolence, but are we trustworthy of such gifts? Another adage advises, “Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it.” Jesus stated it very bluntly: “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted much, much more will be asked” (Luke 12:48, NIV). According to Jesus, we are stewards of grace, responsible for all the blessings God has lavishly shared with us.
The Experience of God’s Grace
Upon whom, therefore, is the grace of God shed? The biblical answer is quite simple.
But he gives us more grace. That is why the Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).
He mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble and oppressed (Proverbs 3:34).
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time (1 Peter 5:6).
He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way (Psalm 25:9).
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted (Luke 14:11).
Note the common thought in these verses: humility is spiritual leverage. Humility is the catalyst, a means of grace, the very power of God for the spiritual transformation of the individual, the church and the nation. The Word of God consistently decrees that God sheds his grace upon the humble. On the other hand, God resists, ignores, and opposes the proud. Pride is spiritual sabotage. Nothing hinders the presence of God and destroys human relationships (community) more quickly or completely than being self-serving, self-seeking, self-willing, self-satisfying. If we are serious when we petition God to shed his grace upon our nation, our communities, our churches, our families, ourselves, we choose the path of humility – God’s will, first and foremost.
Thy love divine hath led us in the past;
in this free land with thee our lot is cast;
be thou our ruler, guardian, guide and stay,
thy Word our law, thy paths our chosen way.
—Daniel C. Roberts (1876)
The Expression of God’s Grace
The Christian life has been explained as a heartbeat, the rhythmic expansion and contraction of the arteries as the heart pumps blood through the body. Which activity is more important: expansion as blood flows into the heart or contraction when blood is sent out of the heart? That rhythm of blood flowing in and then being pushed out is our lifeline. Both, of course, are needed to be healthy and alive.
Likewise, the normal, healthy Christian life is an experience and an expression of grace. Humility is the leverage point for a healthy heart spiritually.
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves. Philippians 2:3
Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Colossians 3:12
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. Micah 6:8
In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus; who, being in the very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross. Philippians 2:5-8
If we genuinely desire to experience the grace of God and responsibly, as stewards, express our desire to be a “brotherhood” (an authentic, healthy, growing, loving community), it begins by having the heartbeat and mind of Christ who came to serve and not be served. Such humility gives leverage to grace in the daily stuff of life, beginning with our loved ones who are close and extending across our spheres of influence. God’s grace is shed generously through the Christlike attitude of valuing all others above ourselves. Another adage, popularized by President Harry Truman, goes: “It is amazing what you can accomplish if you do not care who gets the credit.” God is ready and willing and able to shed his grace upon anyone and everyone who is ready and willing to humble themselves.
Impossible? Too naïve? Simplistic? Unrealistic? Several thousand years of human history confirm that humility is the road much less traveled while Scripture reveals that God’s ways are contrary to human wisdom. Jesus’ life and words affirm that true greatness is demonstrated in humble service. The apostle Paul noted, “God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.” (I Corinthians 1:27).
An Example of God’s Grace: Radical Humility
Every now and then there is a clear witness of the reality of spiritual leverage. God shows up, and through a person or an event, we experience an uplift of grace. Many of us were blessed to observe such a moment at the Outpouring on the campus of Asbury University in February 2023.
Spontaneous revivals have occurred often throughout the years of Asbury University (College). Many books and articles have been written as scholars, Christian leaders, sociologists, et al have sought to understand and explain these spiritually awakening experiences. The availability to announce this latest movement of the Holy Spirit at Asbury across the world immediately on the internet created a phenomenon quite different from previous revivals when the communication and impact of the awakening were much slower. Within hours, thousands of people gathered in Wilmore from across the nation and around the world to experience God’s Presence in Hughes Auditorium and other venues provided for the overflow.
Almost as rapidly, skeptics questioned the legitimacy of this remarkable experience as an authentic spiritual “revival.” Several called for its excitement to be tempered and its value to be validated in terms of social justice and cultural transformation. I regret that these critics were posting comments from afar, having not been on campus nor engaged personally with anyone on site. As one who was present and involved with seekers and believers in Hughes Auditorium, the confirmation of the Spirit’s presence and power that I observed during the Outpouring can best be expressed in two words often repeated by others during those two weeks: radical humility. The authenticity, transparency, and vulnerability of the students broke our hearts as we heard their confessions, saw their brokenness, felt their pain, admired their honesty, and celebrated their joy as they humbled themselves before the Lord. Their radical humility was spiritual leverage for more than a college campus in a small town in Kentucky. As noted, thousands upon thousands of people descended on Wilmore with their brokenness, pain, and desperation. Students from other colleges arrived from all over the nation. People of all ages dared to fully surrender their lives and wholly follow the Lord. Eventually, they journeyed home with peace, hope and unalloyed joy, stewards of God’s grace shed abroad in their hearts. But he gives us more grace. That is why the Scripture says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6). He mocks proud mockers but gives grace to the humble and oppressed (Proverbs 3:34). The legitimacy of the Outpouring continues to be affirmed through radically humble souls who have become a means of grace to a world desperately needing an uplift.
If we are serious when we sing patriotic songs, properly asking God to shed his grace upon us, and pledge our allegiance to become one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all, the leverage point is right there in front of us: Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time (1 Peter 5:6). Our greatness as a nation can never be determined nor adequately measured by our might or power, personalities or political proclivities. God will raise us up only at the point of truthfulness, obedience, faithfulness and radical humility. That begins with us who claim his name.
If my people who are called by my name will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and heal their land (2 Chronicles 7:14).
Mike Powers is a retired Elder in and the former President Pro Tempore and Conference Superintendent of the Mid-South Conference of the Global Methodist Church.
by Jonathan Powers | Jun 29, 2026 | Uncategorized
The Spiritual Consequences of Intellectual Impatience
by Stephen Rankin We live in a society that assumes that faster is (always) better. In the 1950s, computers used vacuum tubes or transistors to process a thousand to several thousand bits of data per second. Today, the micro-processing speed of computers is a billion times faster than seventy years ago. (And yes, since I know next to nothing about computer technology, I used AI to come up with this little tidbit of information.) The Internet functions much faster than it did in the 1990s. And we like it. It seems like a time-saver and saving time is a good thing, right? Not always. Research on the impact of digital technologies on learning has rendered some surprising results. In the classroom, typing notes into a digital device is obviously faster and just seems better for learning than physically writing things down, the way we used to have to do it back in the dark ages. Studies are showing, however, that the physical act of putting a pen or pencil in one’s hand and writing down notes engages a specific area of the brain not activated by keying the exact same information into a device. The physical act of writing helps one to retain content better than typing. There is a specific kind of tactile experience in the physical act of writing that makes a significant difference for learning. The old-fashioned act of writing does more than help us remember. It enhances our capacities for language, which deepens our ability to express our thoughts. Again, the studies show that the tactile act of drawing out the letters gives us an experience of building words into thoughts that typing does not. We need words to understand almost everything about human existence. The better we are at using language, the more capacity we have for understanding others and expressing ourselves. Physically putting pen to paper activates our minds and stimulates a richer awareness of our internal states. These research results have important implications for Christian life. We suffer a kind of intellectual impatience with spiritual consequences. It’s too easy these days for people to seek the desired outcomes, but to assume we can get those outcomes with a foreshortened process. If I can get the right idea and save time doing it, why not? If you’ve read other pieces I’ve recently written, you’ll recognize my underlying assumption, that, to grow spiritually, we need to grow intellectually. The intellect is another word for the understanding. Not many people outside the academy think of using “intellectual” for themselves, but I want to change that tendency. We all need to recognize that, to grow toward maturity requires that we increase in the knowledge and grace of God, as 2 Peter 3:18 says. To grow in knowledge of God is to grow in our understanding of God’s nature and ways. To grow in understanding is to grow intellectually. It’s an absolute must for Christians to grasp this truth. True understanding so important in Christian discipleship is more than simple cognitive grasp. One common way to put the matter calls to mind the adage about the need for gospel knowledge to travel the eighteen inches from the head to the heart. I confess, I don’t love this old saying because it assumes a separation between head and heart that doesn’t exist, but it does make the point I’m trying to make. Much of the problematic shallowness in Christian discipleship afflicting the church these days seems to me to be analogous to keying words into a digital device rather than writing them out physically. It yields a degree of learning, but it doesn’t produce the results of spiritual maturity we find inscribed in scripture. Why? Because, under the influence of “faster is (always) better,” we are predisposed to a vexing intellectual impatience. But most of the Christian faith is slow. It is analogous to putting that pen between your fingers and thumb and scrawling out the letters. If we accept that the time-consuming work of learning is best served by the slower but more effective physical acts of writing over typing, then we can accept the reality and necessity of the time-consuming work of Christian discipleship. It is daily. It requires practice, persistence, and a degree of discipline that goes beyond what most of us think is necessary. It demands close attention, tackling topics that are complex and multi-faceted, with shades of meaning that cannot be overlooked if we want to draw near the truth. This process takes time. There is something deeply satisfying about the experience of learning, once we accept that most of us need to slow down, once we, enabled by God’s grace, bend our wills to the truth that Christian growth just takes time. It’s worth every bit of time that it takes. But, of course, getting to this point of acceptance is not easy. It’s much easier to succumb to our impatience and to keep hurrying through those spare times we do devote to study for spiritual growth. Recognize this temptation for what it is. It’s the devil’s deception to think that you can skip the effort and get the result.
Stephen Rankin is the Contributing Editor for Good News Magazine.
by Jonathan Powers | Jun 23, 2026 | Uncategorized
The Image We Carry
by Jonathan A. Powers
During his career as a pastor, Rev. David Seamands would often begin pastoral counseling sessions by handing a person a blank piece of paper and asking them to draw a picture of God. He claimed that he could learn more about a person’s idea of God from that one activity than in multiple hours of conversation with them. What characteristics and primary features did they highlight? How did that play into what they believed about the Christian life? Apparently by the end of his career he had a file with hundreds of these pictures, which symbolized thousands of hours spent talking with people about the character and nature of God.
This practice has always intrigued me. I’ve often wondered at different times what I would draw. What would my picture say about how I view and relate to God?
Perhaps I would draw God seated upon a throne. Such an image might emphasize His holiness, power, authority, and sovereignty. Yet it might also suggest distance, judgment, or even an image of God as one who primarily demands obedience.
Or perhaps I would imagine the familiar image from Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling, focusing on God’s creative power, majesty, and His reaching out toward humanity.
Maybe I would picture God as a loving father or grandfather watching over the world with care and concern. Or perhaps, in an attempt to avoid limiting God to any single image, I would simply draw a blank white square as a reminder that God is holy, mysterious, beyond human description, and incapable of being fully captured by any image we create.
Then, of course, there is a humorous option made popular by the movie Bruce Almighty: Morgan Freeman. While the cinematic representation is meant to be humorous on the one hand, on the other, Freeman’s characterization points toward a God who is approachable, wise, kind, and comforting.
The reality is that no image can fully capture God. Every picture is incomplete. Yet every image of God carries with it certain assumptions about who God is and how we are meant to relate to Him. Even my blank white square says something. How we see God profoundly influences how we understand Him, and ultimately how we live before Him.
Seamands’s exercise remains a powerful tool for self-examination. But perhaps there is another way to approach the question. Rather than asking what picture we would draw of God, we might ask what picture of God is being revealed through our lives. Perhaps the image we carry within us becomes visible in the way we worship, serve, love, and respond to God’s grace. Jesus’ Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25 invites us to consider exactly that.
The Parable of the Talents
The Parable of the Talents appears near the end of Matthew’s Gospel, immediately before Jesus’ betrayal and crucifixion. These are among His final public teachings. Significantly, His focus remains what it has been throughout His ministry: the Kingdom of God.
From the beginning of His public ministry, Jesus proclaimed, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matt. 4:17). The Sermon on the Mount unfolds the values of that Kingdom. Now, as Jesus approaches the cross, He offers His disciples final instructions concerning the coming Kingdom and the coming King.
The surrounding passages reinforce this theme. The Parable of the Ten Virgins calls believers to readiness for the bridegroom’s arrival. The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats emphasizes final judgment and accountability. Nestled between them is the Parable of the Talents. Together, these passages remind us that there can be no Kingdom without a King. If we misunderstand the King, we will inevitably misunderstand the Kingdom.
For many of Jesus’ followers, the expectation was that God’s Kingdom would arrive through political power and military victory. They longed for a restored kingdom like that of David. Yet Jesus was moving toward a cross. A crucified king hardly looked like a victorious ruler. But Jesus was redefining kingship. He came not to rule through coercion but to reign through self-giving love. He would conquer not by taking life but by laying down His own. His Kingdom would endure forever because it was founded on sacrificial love rather than political power.
In the Parable of the Talents, a master prepares to leave on a journey and entrusts his property to three servants. One receives five talents, another two, and a third receives one. Each amount is substantial, far more than an ordinary servant could ever accumulate independently.
Upon the master’s return, the first two servants report that they have doubled what was entrusted to them. The master responds with words every believer longs to hear:
“Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”
The third servant, however, buries his talent in the ground and returns only what was originally given. Claiming fear of the master, he explains that he viewed him as a harsh and demanding man. The master rebukes him and removes the talent from his care.
The Parable Reconsidered
For the longest time, this parable bothered me. Every time I encountered it, I found myself confused, as if it pointed toward a works-based righteousness. It was as if Jesus’ point was primarily a lesson about stewardship and faithfulness. God gives us gifts. We should use them diligently for His purposes. Those who serve Him faithfully are rewarded, while those who do not are condemned. While there is an element of truth in that reading, the more I sat with the passage, the more I realized something about my interpretation: it was almost entirely focused on the servants. The story became about what they did or did not do, how hard they worked, whether they were successful, and ultimately whether they were acceptable to their master. In many ways, it became a story about performance. The emphasis seemed to be on what we do for God in order to earn His favor.
As I have revisited the parable over the years, however, I have become increasingly convinced that this is not where Jesus intends us to place our attention. After all, this teaching comes right before Jesus’ betrayal and death as part of his instruction about the coming Kingdom. And if the Kingdom is the focus, then so is the King. The parable is not first and foremost about the servants, it is about the master. It is about the kind of King Jesus is and what His Kingdom is like. Once I began reading the story through that lens, I started noticing many things I had overlooked previously.
The first thing the story reveals is a giving master. Before the servants ever act, the master entrusts them with extraordinary resources. They do not earn these gifts. In fact, each servant receives more than he could likely accumulate in a lifetime. Nor do they deserve them. Usually, a master would leave his family or his overseers in charge of such a large amount of money. However, this master freely shares his wealth with these servants. He empowers them with something beyond themselves.
This is a picture of grace. The story begins not with human effort but with divine generosity.
What we see, then is that the first two servants recognize both the gift and the generosity of the giver. They accept the gift and their lives are transformed. Their actions then flow from participation in the master’s purposes. Their investment is not primarily about earning favor but about responding to the generosity they have already received. As a result, they enter into the joy of their master.
The third servant, however, neither understands the gift nor truly knows the giver. His perception of the master is distorted. Because he sees the master as harsh and demanding, the exact opposite of what the master has truly done, he responds not with gratitude but with self-protective fear. His actions reveal that he has misunderstood the character of the one who entrusted him with such generosity.
Ultimately, the issue is not merely what the servant did with the talent. The deeper issue is what he believed about the master.
The God We See
Once we realize that the central issue in the parable is whether the servants truly know the Master, we are confronted with a deeper question: Do we see God’s gifts as something to earn His favor, or as a gracious invitation to share in His life and Kingdom?
Many Christians are tempted to define their relationship with God primarily through performance. We assume that our worth is tied to what we accomplish for Him. We serve, work, and strive because we hope to earn His approval. Yet, the first two servants were not motivated by anxiety over acceptance. They acted because they had already experienced the generosity of the master. They knew him.
The third servant also wanted to avoid displeasing the master, but his understanding of the master was fundamentally flawed. He could not respond in gratitude because he did not recognize grace when it was placed in his hands.
The parable reminds us that everything we have comes from God. We own nothing independently. We earn nothing apart from His grace. Every gift, opportunity, talent, resource, and calling is entrusted to us by a generous King.
As we come to know Jesus Christ, we discover a King who gives rather than grasps, who serves rather than dominates, who conquers through sacrificial love rather than force. And as we behold that King, gratitude naturally overflows into lives of service, generosity, and love.
The question, then, is not simply whether we are using our gifts. The deeper question is whether we truly know the One who gave them.
Perhaps the image of God that matters most is not the one we would draw on a piece of paper. Perhaps the most important image is the one revealed in Jesus Christ, a King whose life, death, and resurrection show us the very heart of God. When we fix our eyes on Him, we discover a God who gives Himself freely to us through grace. And when we truly see that image, we cannot help but reflect it to the world around us.
Jonathan Powers is the Associate Professor of Worship Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, KY and the Editor-in-Chief for Good News magazine.
by Jonathan Powers | Jun 15, 2026 | Uncategorized
Why the Old Testament?
by Bill T. Arnold
Every reader of the Bible is confronted with a question: “Since the Old Testament claims God revealed himself to ancient Israel and that he will reveal himself further in the future, what do I make of these theological claims?” Or to put it another way, “How are the Old Testament’s claims resolved in history?”
I say this because the writings collected in what Christians call the “Old Testament” have no clearly stated completion or resolution. They have no literary denouement. Instead, the Old Testament ends in expectation, awaiting a fuller revelation to usher in a new kingdom and its Messiah.
The Old Testament presents a history of redemption and promise, a “salvation-history” (Heilsgeschichte). But as one scholar has pointed out, it is a salvation-history that never actually arrives at salvation (John Bright, 1959). It creates a trajectory that doesn’t quite arrive at its termination point within its own pages.
In the history of religion, there are two possible answers to this question—the one offered by Judaism and the one offered by Christianity. Judaism believes the truth-claims of the Old Testament were preserved in the traditions of the Mishnah (approximately 200 AD) and, finally, in the Talmud (commentary on the Mishnah). In this approach the culmination of Old Testament hopes and expectations is deferred to the future. The Messiah’s arrival is still a future event, and the kingdom of God is postponed.
On the other hand, Christianity has been clear from its inception that the New Testament fulfills and complements the Old. The Gospels’ genealogies of Jesus (Mt 1:1–16; Lk 3:23–28) explicitly affirmed that the Messiah has arrived, and that he is the culmination and fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies. Over and over again in the New Testament, the authors emphasize the intimate connections between the events of their day and the Old Testament with quotes such as “All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet . . .” (Mt 1:22; see also Lk 24:44–47). And the early church recognized and affirmed the importance of the Old Testament to Christian faith, rejecting all dissenting voices as heretical (such as Marcion of Sinope).
The arrangement of Old Testament books in our Christian canon intentionally ties Old and New together. By concluding with the prophets, the Old Testament collection leaves off with a final prediction of that day when one greater than David will appear (Mal 3:1).
But this raises one of the thorniest questions of reading the Bible: How do the Old and New Testaments relate to each other? Some today would say the Old Testament does not relate to modern culture; indeed, even many Christians cut it from their Bibles, either intentionally or by neglect. In recent years, intense debates have centered on this very question, in both the US and Germany. Here, leading pastors have suggested that portions of the Bible (many of which are Old Testament texts) should be placed in a category of passages that never fully expressed the heart, character, or will of God. Another US pastor has proposed that modern Christians should ‘unhitch’ from the Old Testament altogether. In Germany, similar debates are happening, although in a more academic conversation among scholars and theologians.[1]
What should our response be? With the earliest Christian believers we must assert that the Old Testament is God’s Word for our times. The question is not whether we should read both Testaments, but rather how we should read them together. Exactly how do they relate?
We must define this relationship as more than a simple promise–fulfillment connection, since much of the Old Testament is something other than promises. Likewise, it is more than a simple chronological sequence, as the terms “old” and “new”, or “first testament” and “second testament” might imply. This is not an old, outmoded covenant system now made obsolete by a newer, sleeker model. Instead, the relationship is more integrative and reciprocal. There is an interdependence between the Old and New Testaments. Reading either testament in isolation from the other will result in misunderstanding both. Or, as theologian Fredrick Holmgren said it, either testament “without the other cannot be the scripture of the church” (The Old Testament and the Significance of Jesus, 1999, 138).
This intimate relationship between the Testaments has at least three aspects. First, the Old Testament is the literary background for the New. This can be illustrated by the sheer mass of New Testament quotations of or allusions to the Old. One scholar has counted 295 separate explicit references to the Old Testament, occupying some 352 verses of the New by one count. But the literary relationship is more than mere quotations. The rhetorical techniques, and to some degree even language and style of the New Testament authors, are shaped by the Old Testament.
Second, the Old Testament is the historical foundation of the New. It is no exaggeration to say the New Testament would be incomprehensible without the historical information of the Old. How would readers of the New Testament understand the claim that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah without first learning something about the history of national Israel and the Davidic dynasty? This historical interdependency could be illustrated in countless ways. But perhaps the most obvious is the New Testament’s claim to fulfill the Old Testament’s future hopes.
Third, the Old Testament is the theological centerpiece of the New. The authors of the New Testament begin by affirming the theological truths of the Old, and they assume their readers know those truths and accept them. In fact, most of the great doctrinal truths of the church are defined first, not in the New Testament, but in the Old. Furthermore, many of these truths are not defined at all in the New Testament; they are simply taken for granted. So for example, the significance of creation, the nature of anthropology (or the human condition), the consequences of human sin, the central role of covenant in redemption, the doctrine of atonement—all are given definitive statement in the Old Testament and assumed by the authors of the New. And this is only a partial list. In many ways, the New Testament contains little that is actually new, but rather describes the climactic fulfillment of the theological themes and messages from the Old Testament. Austrian Bible scholar, Ludger Schwienhorst-Schönberger puts it this way: “The often-posed question of why the Old Testament belongs to the (Christian) Bible should really be – if it were asked in a historically and hermeneutically correct way – ‘Why does the New Testament belong to the Bible?’”
In these ways, and in many others, the Old Testament is the literary, historical, and theological matrix of the New Testament. So I return to that intimately personal question the Old Testament poses for every reader: “Since God claims to reveal himself in the Old Testament and promises to reveal himself further in the future, what do I make of these theological claims?” The New Testament and two thousand years of church history have affirmed with one voice: Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of that Old Testament revelation. Together the truth-claims of the Old and New Testaments give us pause to consider restating the question. Perhaps we should ask, not what do I make of the claims of the Bible, but what do they make of me? The Bible offers truth, and invites all of us to receive, confess, believe, and allow the text to form us (not just inform us but transform us). In so doing, these writings become the means of grace whereby God’s Spirit makes us new people.
Excerpted and revised from Bill T. Arnold, “Epilogue,” in Encountering the Old Testament; A Christian Survey, by Bill T. Arnold and Bryan E. Beyer, Fourth Edition (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2024), 465–67.
[1] “Marcion on the Elbe: A Defense of the Old Testament as Christian Scripture,” First Things (December, 2018): 21-26; https://firstthings.com/marcion-on-the-elbe.
Dr. Bill T. Arnold is the Paul S. Amos Professor of Old Testament Interpretation. He joined the Asbury Theological Seminary faculty in 1995.