Monthly Archives: January 2016

What’s the difference?

When I was younger, I thought a lot about the story of the Passover. After all, I was the firstborn son in my family, so I thought, If I had lived back then, my life could have been in jeopardy. But I was also a little horrified by the story itself. All those innocent Egyptian boys! How could God do that?

At the time, I wondered whether any Egyptians put the blood of a lamb on their doorposts and thus escaped the terrible plague. I suppose my thinking was not too far fetched; in Exodus 9:20-21 it shows that some Egyptians believed that God would make good on His threat to send devastating hail and prepared accordingly. Still, it was a speculation based on the silence of the text.

I have come to realize that the answer to my question is in the silence. The Bible only talks about the Israelites putting the blood of the lamb on their doorposts, which means only the Israelites performed this ritual. The reason only the Israelites did this is because the ritual was explained only to the Israelites. God expressly told only the Israelites how to avoid the tragedy that would soon befall the Egyptians.

Why? Because God wanted to save the Israelites. They were already His; He just gave them a visible sign of that spiritual reality. They in turn believed that He was going to do what He promised and responded in obedience.

God distinguished Israel from Egypt back then through the Passover, and God distinguishes Christians from everyone else now through Jesus Christ.

The Bible declares that Christians are spiritually distinct from unbelievers and delineates ways in which Christians should be practically distinct from unbelievers. The imperatives of Christianity directly flow from the indicatives of Christianity.

We Christians are different; therefore, we ought to be different. Or, alternately: our Christian activity is determined by our Christian identity. (Either sentence would be an acceptable Tweet.)

There are a myriad of interpretations and a million more applications that have been drawn from Jesus’ parable about the sower and the seed falling on different soils. Here is what I understand as the main takeaway—only the seed that fell on good soil produces fruit. That is, only Christians can be Christ-like. This is not to deny that a Christian will sin, but to affirm that a Christian is no longer a slave to sin (cf. Romans 6:1-14).

We who are truly Christians will show ourselves as such. We are already His; He has graciously given us ways to demonstrate that spiritual reality. We in turn trust that He will do what He has promised and respond in obedience.

And why did God decide to save us who trust in Jesus? “[It was] not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began” (II Timothy 1:9). God saved us so that we would acknowledge the Lamb that was slain on our behalf and worship Him as the worthy King.

Christ Jesus makes all the difference in the world—and in us.


On “Being Right”

My wife will tell you—I’m a bit of a know-it-all.

She’s right. And I love it.

How much do I love being right? I love being right so much that I will hold on to a “Scene It?” trivia board game for years, just waiting for the right unsuspecting victim to come along and foolishly attempt to prove they know more about movies than I do. (True story.) I love being right so much that, if I hear a conversation about Star Wars or superheroes, but it’s clear that the participants themselves are not nearly as into it as I am, I will engage in every non-verbal cue in my arsenal until they invite me into the conversation. (Also true.)

So I love being right. But, at times, I also hate it.

When do I hate being right? When Christians get theology wrong.

I hate being right when a friend on Facebook presents a “cutting-edge” idea about Christianity, but which has dire implications if taken to its logical extension, regardless of how many “likes” it garners. I hate being right when an author or celebrity with a broad audience tells others his opinions of what God is like, as though personal speculation were superior to biblical revelation. I especially hate when a pastor fails in his duty to present the Word of God as anything less than the clear, true, authoritative, and sufficient Word that it is, or to present Jesus as anything lower than the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Son of David, the King of the Jews, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the Judge of the whole earth, the One who is and was and is to come.

Tragically, however, I have loved “being right” more than I have loved the person in error. How? I tended to keep the truth to myself. Rather than engage in a conversation about issues that have eternal consequences, I have seethed to myself and satisfied myself with the smug consolation: I’m right and they’re wrong.

Or, occasionally, I have failed in the opposite direction. I have interpreted their theological error as a character defect, and I have let them know as much. This is a rarer occurrence, but usually by this time I have built up a lot of animus and vitriol compounded with confirmation bias, and heaven forbid I should let this “righteous indignation” go to waste. I will not only definitively show you everything wrong with what you have said/done, but how this further proves that you are a terrible person.

By withholding the truth, I have not loved my brother in Christ. And by ascribing evil to the one in error, I have not loved my brother in Christ. And if I do not love my fellow Christian, I am disobeying Jesus (John 13:34-35).

Paul famously wrote about Christians “speaking the truth in love” (Ephesians 4:15) in the context of members of a church growing together in spiritual maturity. Well, in my mind, I’ve got the “truth” part down, but that still leaves “love” and “speaking.”

So here is my resolution going forward. If I hear a fellow Christian teaching something that seems off-base, I will pray that Jesus would give me the opportunity and the words to speak in response, whether they are words of seeking clarification, of offering a perspective that he/she perhaps had not considered, or even of rebuke (if it directly contradicts the gospel) and entreating this brother/sister to return to the good news “once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3).

And I ask that you, my fellow Christians, would do the same for me.

Because, in the end, it does not matter how “right” I am; what matters is that we all come to grow in our knowledge of the Truth Himself (John 14:6).

What’s the big deal?

I think Jesus is a big deal.

You may be thinking, “Well, duh. You’re a Christian, so of course you like Jesus.”

To which I respond, “That’s not what I wrote.”

My general impression is that Jesus, functionally speaking, is not that big of a deal to a good number of people who call themselves Christians. Thus, my fear is that, because too many Christians do not make a big deal out of Jesus, too many unbelievers will continue to treat Jesus as though he were not that important. My hope is, to the infinitesimally small degree that I can, I might rectify this situation.

But what makes Jesus a big deal? Why is Jesus important? Why him rather than anyone else who ever lived in the history of the planet?

Because, as Peter correctly identified, Jesus is the Christ (Matthew 16:16).

You may be thinking, “So? What does that mean?”

Or maybe you have been a Christian for a while. Maybe you are already familiar with the terminology of “Christ.” Maybe you know that “Christ” comes from the Greek word which literally means, “Anointed One.” Maybe you have some working knowledge of the Hebrew language and recognize that the word “Messiah” also literally means, “Anointed One.” So maybe you have put the pieces together and see that the words “Christ” and “Messiah” are just the Greek and Hebrew versions of each other.

And maybe—as was the case for me—this information means nothing more to you than a piece of trivia you learn from watching Jeopardy.

In case you don’t know, my dad Dr. Gary Tuck is a professor at Western Seminary in San Jose who has taught (among other subjects) biblical interpretation and New Testament for over twenty years. He has taught me one of the most simple yet profound theological teachings that I have ever encountered.

I am going to share this life-changing notion with you, free of charge.

Are you ready?

Jesus. Is. King.

The words “Christ” and “Messiah” mean… King.

A king has supremacy in relation to his kingdom. A king has authority over his subjects. A king receives glory when his subjects acknowledge his rightful rule over them.

When you read or hear the words, “Jesus Christ,” I want you to think, “King Jesus.” And when you think the words, “King Jesus,” I want you to be reminded of the ultimate supremacy Jesus has, of the unlimited authority that He wields, of the unending glory that is due to Him.

So whenever you encounter the words, “Jesus Christ,” I want you to be reminded how big of a deal Jesus actually is.

If you are a Christian who is likewise convinced that Jesus is a big deal, I pray you will be encouraged to continue in your faith. If you call yourself a Christian but do not regularly make a big deal out of Jesus, I pray your conscience would be stirred by the Holy Spirit to consider why this is so. If you would not consider yourself a Christian or if you are not sure what the big deal is all about, I hope that you would just keep reading this blog nonetheless, and that you would consider one last thought.

Philippians 2:10-11 teaches that, one day in the future, every knee will bow to Jesus and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord (read: King). The word “every” includes you. The question is not whether you will bow on that day; the question is whether you will bow today.

That seems like a pretty big deal to me.

For starters…

First things first: Why?

Specifically: 1) Why am I starting a blog? 2) Why should you read what I write?

As to the first question, it’s because my wife Frances suggested I should.

Well, not really; she (who, in case you don’t know, has an excellent blog over at suggested that I start a podcast. After a moment’s consideration, I realized that I have precisely none of the necessary equipment for a podcast, no inclination to purchase said equipment, no experience in “podcasting,” and little incentive to rectify such deficiencies. HOWEVER, I also quickly realized that the text-based equivalent of a podcast would be a blog, which seemed like a reasonable and reasonably priced alternative. Besides, I’ve always been a path-of-least-resistance kind of guy.

So, a blog it is.

As to the second question, it’s because I intend to write about what really matters.

I know how arrogant that sounds, but hear me out.

I named this blog, “Not Ourselves.” The typical usage of this idiom goes something like this. Somebody acts crazy or out of control, and when he calms down, he apologizes for excuses his behavior by saying, “I wasn’t myself.” (Yes, I just used the masculine pronoun for a generic person. Get used to it.)

But I use the phrase as a reference to one of my favorite verses from the Bible. In II Corinthians 4:5 (ESV), Paul writes: “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.”

Did you catch it?

The apostle Paul in essence is saying, “I (along with my trusted colleagues) do not write to you so that you will know how awesome I am. I am not seeking to further my own reputation. My message is not about me. It’s about Jesus, who is both Christ and Lord. If you don’t yet understand how important that message is, that’s fine for now; I’ll do my best to serve you and to explain to you the weight and depth and height and grandness of this concept. For the sake of Jesus, I will communicate this message to you.”

I did not start a blog so that I can convince you how smart, how clever, or how witty I am. I don’t want you to read this blog and come away thinking that I am important. I’m not. I will write so that you can know how important Jesus is.

And HE is what really matters.

How’s that for starters?