Posted in Gospel
Over the last couple days we've examined this phrase "gospel-centered" and seen that it rightly reminds us to keep the good news about Jesus Christ at the center of our teaching, discipleship, and life with the Lord. But there is something else we need to think about in this discussion: Is the gospel we have placed at the center complete? Are we thinking of the gospel in large enough terms? Or are we taking only a part of it and treating it like the whole?
An example of this is the truth that Jesus died for my sins. This is good news indeed and a key part of the gospel. Yet, it is not the whole of it. I might use this phrase (appropriately) as a summary for the whole of it, but I should remember that the gospel contains many facets and glories not captured by this summary. Of course, that's the point of a summary, right, that it stands for the whole? The gospel is bigger than any one facet of it.
The good news of what God did through Jesus Christ in our lives is massive. It connects us to promises which are infinite and eternal. It can help us obey God by pointing out our freedom from sin and newness of life (Rom. 6:3-4). It touches on the attributes of God: He is holy, righteous, merciful, infinite, and gracious. In other words, however we summarize the gospel, we are communicating only the smallest piece—a glorious and wonderful piece, but only a piece of it.
To think about only one part of the gospel instead of the full gospel is like thinking of one of the ingredients in lasagna instead of the whole. I love lasagna, but I wouldn't want a spoonful of oregano. I love lasagna, but I wouldn't want a cup full of tomato sauce.
There's a practical side to this truth as well. As we live life in Christ, there is often one truth that seems particularly relevant to us at the moment. Maybe it's God's holiness. Or grace. Or Christ's atonement. For us, thinking on this facet of the gospel is like a treasure chest of comfort and power. Yet, others in a different season might need a different side of the gospel—maybe they need to be humbled by the wrath of God displayed at the cross. We need to be okay with this, and we should even expect it. We should be slow to take our lessons in the Spirit and place them atop what others are going through.
David Powlison captures this idea well: "When we look back into the stories and details of Scripture, and when we look out into the variety of life stories and pastoral experiences, we see a 'manyness' that defies reductionism, a 'pointedness' that defies tidy abstraction" ("How Does Sanctification Work?", JBC 27:1, 53). The Bible's variety is evidence of the brilliance and glory of our Creator. If had wanted us to only speak about one side of the gospel, he would have only given us one aspect. But he gave us a rich set of scriptures that explode in their variety of surprises, stories, poems, crises, failures, triumphs, redemptions, and yes, their gospel moments. In other words, don't paint the rainbow of the Bible with only one crayon. Preserve the "manyness" of the Bible in your life.
The gospel gives us a framework in which to understand these things. Jesus's cross reveals God's holiness vividly, but also the propitiation that satisfies what his holiness demands. The good news of what Jesus purchased for me through his death reminds me of my eternal inheritance that waits for me on That Day. The gospel sobers me by pointing out what my sins deserve, but it then encourages me by reminding me that the stranglehold of sin is broken in my life. Further, it even meets me with forgiveness and comfort when I fail (again and again).
Daniel