By Bethany Riehl
Preach the gospel to yourself every day.
Have you ever heard anyone say that? It’s a great sentiment, but what does it mean?
I came across a wonderful book recently that has helped me to drill down on that statement. In A Gospel Primer for Christians by Milton Vincent, the author explains that the gospel isn’t just information you know and then get saved by (although of course faith in Jesus and His good news is what saves us), but rather the truth that pertains to all of life for the redeemed believer.
When we truly understand the gospel, it changes everything about us, or at least it should. How we think, how we feel, what we say, what we do. How we think about God, how we think about ourselves and other people. All shaped and sharpened by our increase in the knowledge of the gospel.
Why?
Because all of Scripture points to this amazing truth: that God sent His Son to reconcile sinners to Himself. (1 Timothy 1:15 “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.”)
Our pastor recently began his ascent into the great and wonderful book of Romans. After three weeks, we’ve made it all the way to verse seven of chapter one! Needless to say, he’s taking us deep. As he’s prepared us for this rich and wonderful excursion into a letter that fully captures the joys and complexities (and simplicity) that is the gospel and our lives lived in response to it, he made this statement and I’ve been thinking of it all week, “Do not let the Good News become old news.”
Isn’t that so easy? Isn’t it such a danger? I know it is for me. When I’ve heard others say, “Preach the gospel to yourself daily,” I’ve agreed, but only in part. The rest of me has, admittedly, been a little confused, not fully understanding the meaning. Is that because although I am saved by the grace of God, I haven’t actually sat in the full depth of the meaning of the gospel for a good long while?
Is that why I sometimes feel my love for the Lord and for His people grow cold?
When I forget the power to be found in the resurrected Jesus, the power that now abides in me through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the result will always be a cold indifference to Him, His Word, and His undeserved grace.
I saw a study recently that said that scientists have discovered that dogs love their owners even more than their food or toys. Well duh, I thought, because we, the owners, are the access to food and toys. They know that we provide all that they want. But then it hit me: all that I have is from the Lord. (“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” James 1:17) Does that cause me to love Him more than everything else? Is He my favorite? The object of all of my affection?
If not, why? How is that possible?
It’s easy to get caught up in ourselves. Our lives, our immediate needs, our anxieties. When we stop preaching the gospel to ourselves daily, we sink deeper into our own little worlds, forgetting Who holds all things together.
As I’ve been studying more about all that the gospel does – guides me, transforms how I think of God, how I think of myself, how I treat others, how I spend my time, how I react to trials, etc. – I’ve begun to see the threads of the gospel everywhere. I knew it was all over Scripture, but now there’s a huge, blaring spotlight on what I’ve been reading saying, “See! Here, too!”
For example, in the book of Exodus. It’s not that I haven’t seen God’s deliverance there; it’s so obvious! But I really began to see as I read it this year that the deliverance of the Israelites looks much like my own testimony.
I, too, was a slave to a hard and difficult master: sin. If ever sin got the idea I could break away, it came on harsher and heavier. I had no hope of escape, no way to deliver myself. But God Himself, knowing this, sent Jesus to break me free from the chains of sin. He delivered me, he restored me, He made me His. And just like the Israelites, I followed willingly, gratefully…until I got thirsty and longed for my old chains. I longed for the leeks of Egypt when God was actively giving me manna from heaven to eat (Numbers 11:15).
“Wasn’t it better before,” I would ask when I felt conflicted about sin.
Of course it wasn’t better – it was misery! And even then, even when I was His enemy, He showered me with His grace. He kept me alive and breathing and fed and even gave me kind parents to love me, happy moments with friends, sunrises and sunsets to enjoy, cheesecake, puppy snuggles…I could go on and on. More than the common grace He gave, He laid down His life for me, while I was His enemy. (“…but God showed His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8)
Through the truth of the gospel, we also have this great encouragement – if He died for us while we were still sinners, how much does He shower His grace toward us when we now belong to Him? We can’t make Him love us more or less. His attributes stand firm and our actions don’t affect them. His grace alone is what has saved us, it is nothing we have done. Therefore, we can’t cast it off once it’s set on us. (“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God…” Ephesians 2:8)
Think of the actions of the father of the prodigal son in Luke 15. He’s not an angry and contemptuous father, although he has every right to be. He runs to meet his son before he has a chance to voice his repentance. So, too, does our heavenly Father forgive and embrace us.
Another truth I’ve seen take hold in my pursuit of renewing the gospel to myself is that Jesus’ power has never stopped being complete and miraculous. We see all through the gospels the jaw-dropping stories of Him healing the blind, the deaf, the lame, bringing the dead to life.
Wasn’t I once like all of these? Unable to see, hear, or walk on without His light and His Word to guide me (Psalm 119:105)? Wasn’t I like Lazarus, dead in my trespasses and sins and without hope (Colossians 2:13-14) until Christ called to me, “Come forth!” and I was released from my burial rags and given His robe of righteousness (Isaiah 61:10)?
We stand in awe of these physical miracles, but even more amazing is how Jesus can change hearts. He transforms. (“And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” Ezekiel 36:26)
I recently met up with a woman from my church who loves the Lord and has the sweetest, most tender heart. As she shared her testimony with me, she said she used to be full of anger, always simmering. The slightest perceived provocation would set her off.
“If someone looked at me, I wanted to fight them.”
I couldn’t even imagine it! That’s what the gospel of Jesus does – it transforms. And not just at our conversion, but every day for the rest of our lives, we can mine the deep riches of His glory through the truth of His gospel. This is what we have to offer to our own battered hearts, yes, but even more this is what we have to offer the world.
In all of the chaos, the arguing, the violence, the abuse, the coldness we can see in our world, it’s easy to go at the symptoms. Right now, my social media feed is a frenzy of screaming opinions and solutions to the problems we see in the world.
But the only One that truly saves is Jesus.
He came to save sinners. Our mission, friends, is to preach that to the world, starting with ourselves, each and every day until He calls us home.
