by John Piper
Great and amazing are your deeds,
O Lord God the Almighty!
Just and true are your ways,
O King of the nations!
Who will not fear, O Lord,
and glorify your name?
For you alone are holy.
All nations will come and worship you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.
Revelation 15:3–4
1. In the 2003 edition of this book, I added a chapter to clarify in great detail and application what I mean by “worship” and how it relates to “worship services” and the worship of practical obedience (Rom. 12:1–2). It is titled “The Inner Simplicity and Outer Freedom of Worldwide Worship.” The thesis is that the New Testament is stunningly silent about the outward forms of worship and radically focused on the inner experience of treasuring God, because it is a book of vision for missions in all cultures, not a worship manual for how to “do worship” in our culture.
2. Quoted in First Things 18 (December 1991): 63 (emphasis added).
3. Quoted in Tom Wells, A Vision for Missions (Carlisle, Pa.: Banner of Truth Trust, 1985), 35.
4. Quoted in Iain Murray, The Puritan Hope (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1971), 140. For an introduction to Carey’s life, see Timothy George, Faithful Witness: The Life and Mission of William Carey (Birmingham, Ala.: New Hope, 1991).
5. I have tried to unfold this wonderful truth of the Father’s delight in himself in The Pleasures of God: Meditations on God’s Delight in Being God, rev. and exp. ed. (Sisters, Ore.: Multnomah, 2000), chap. 1, “The Pleasure of God in His Son” (25–45).
6. See especially “Appendix 1: The Goal of God in Redemptive History,” in Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist (Sisters, Ore.: Multnomah, 1996), 255–66; and the entirety of The Pleasures of God.
7. For an introduction to the life of Edwards, the implications of his theology for evangelicalism, and the complete text of The End for Which God Created the World, see John Piper, God’s Passion for His Glory: Living the Vision of Jonathan Edwards (Wheaton: Crossway, 1998).
8. Ibid., 246.
9. In defense of the reality of eternal conscious torment in hell for those who reject the truth of God, see chapter 4.
10. Jonathan Edwards, Charity and Its Fruits (1852; reprint, Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1969), 164.
11. For an extended elaboration of this thesis, see Piper, Desiring God, and its abbreviated version, The Dangerous Duty of Delight: The Glorified God and the Satisfied Soul (Sisters, Ore.: Multnomah, 2001). See also Sam Storms, Pleasures Evermore: The Life-Changing Power of Enjoying God (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2000).
12. For a more extended treatment of how God’s God-centeredness is the ground of his mercy, see Pleasures of God, 104–9.
13. For further reflection on the interconnectedness of mercy and magnifying God in missions, see chapter 6 of this book, “A Passion for God’s Supremacy and Compassion for Man’s Soul.”
14. I am aware that the Bible is replete with pictures of God’s people serving him. I have dealt in some detail with the way service can be conceived biblically so as not to put God in the category of an employer who depends on wage earners. See Desiring God, 144–49.
15. See an extensive list of these texts in chapter 5.
16. John R. W. Stott, “The Bible in World Evangelization,” in Perspectives on the World Christian Movement: A Reader, 3d ed., ed. Ralph D. Winter and Steven C. Hawthorne (Pasadena, Calif.: William Carey Library, 1999), 22.
17. Jonathan Edwards, The Life of David Brainerd, ed. Norman Pettit, vol. 7 of The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1985), 474. For a more accessible version of Brainerd’s diary, see Philip E. Howard Jr., The Life and Diary of David Brainerd, ed. by Jonathan Edwards with a Biographical Sketch of the Life and Work of Jonathan Edwards (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1989).
18. Andrew Murray, Key to the Missionary Problem (Fort Washington, Pa.: Christian Literature Crusade, 1979), 133.
19. Peter Beyerhaus, Shaken Foundations: Theological Foundations for Missions (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1972), 41–42.
20. John Dawson, Taking Our Cities for God (Lake Mary, Fla.: Creation House, 1989), 208–9.
21. Wesley Duewel, Ablaze for God (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1989), 115–16.
22. On this theme, see chapter 6 of this book, “A Passion for God’s Supremacy and Compassion for Man’s Soul.”
2
The Supremacy of God
in Missions through Prayer
We cannot know what prayer is for until we know that life is war.
Life is war. That’s not all it is. But it is always that. Our weakness in prayer is owing largely to our neglect of this truth. Prayer is primarily a wartime walkie-talkie for the mission of the church as it advances against the powers of darkness and unbelief. It is not surprising that prayer malfunctions when we try to make it a domestic intercom to call upstairs for more comforts in the den. God has given us prayer as a wartime walkie-talkie so that we can call headquarters for everything we need as the kingdom of Christ advances in the world. Prayer gives us the significance of frontline forces and gives God the glory of a limitless Provider. The one who gives the power gets the glory. Thus, prayer safeguards the supremacy of God in missions while linking us with endless grace for every need.
Life Is War
When Paul came to the end of his life, he said in 2 Timothy 4:7, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” In 1 Timothy 6:12, he tells Timothy, “Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called.” For Paul, all of life was war. Yes, he used other images as well—farming, athletics, family, building, shepherding, and so on. And yes, he was a man who loved peace. But the pervasiveness of war is seen precisely in the fact that one of the weapons of war is the gospel of peace! (Eph. 6:15). Yes, he was a man of tremendous joy. But this joy was usually a “rejoicing in the sufferings” of his embattled mission (Rom. 5:3; 12:12; 2 Cor. 6:10; Phil. 2:17; Col. 1:24; cf. 1 Peter 1:6; 4:13).
Life is war because the maintenance of our faith and the laying hold on eternal life is a constant fight. Paul makes clear in 1 Thessalonians 3:5 that Satan targets our faith for destruction. “I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain.” Satan’s attack in Thessalonica was against the Christians’ faith. His aim was to make Paul’s work there “vain”—empty, destroyed.
It’s true that Paul believed in the eternal security of the elect (“Those whom [God] justified he also glorified” [Rom. 8:30]). But the only people who are eternally secure are those who “make their calling and election sure” by fighting the good fight of faith and laying hold on eternal life (1 Tim. 6:12; 2 Peter 1:10). Jesus said, “The one who endures to the end will be saved” (Mark 13:13). And Satan is fighting always to bring us to ruin by destroying our faith.
The word for “fight” in 1 Timothy, agonizesthai, is used repeatedly in describing the Christian life. Jesus said, “Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (Luke 13:24). Hebrews 4:11 says, “Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience.” Paul compares the Christian life to a race and says, “Every athlete strives and uses self-control in all things. They do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we do it to obtain an imperishable one” (1 Cor. 9:25, author’s translation). He describes his ministry of proclamation and teaching in these terms: “For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me” (Col. 1:29). And he says that prayer is part of this fight: “Epaphras, who is one of you, a servant of Christ Jesus, greets you, always struggling on your behalf in his prayers” (Col. 4:12). “Strive together with me in your prayers to God on my behalf” (Rom. 15:30). It’s the same word each time: the word for “fight.”
Paul is even more graphic at
times with other warfare language. Concerning his own life of warfare he said, “I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified” (1 Cor. 9:26–27). He runs a race, he fights a boxing match, and he strives against the forces of his own body. Concerning his ministry he said, “Though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Cor. 10:3–5).
Paul encouraged Timothy to see his whole ministry as war: “This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare” (1 Tim. 1:18). “No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits” (2 Tim. 2:4). In other words, missions and ministry are war.
Probably the most familiar passage on our daily warfare is Ephesians 6:12–18, where Paul lists the pieces of the “whole armor of God.” We must not miss the forest for the trees here. The simple assumption of this familiar passage is this: Life is war. Paul simply assumes this and then tells us what kind of war it is: not “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. Therefore take up the whole armor of God” (vv. 12–13).
Then all the precious blessings of life that could be thought of in contexts other than war are drafted for the battle. If we know truth, it is for a belt in the armor. If we have righteousness, we must wear it as a breastplate. If we cherish the gospel of peace, it must become a soldier’s footwear. If we love resting in the promises of God, that faith must be fastened on our left arm as a shield against flaming arrows. If we delight in our salvation, we must fit it securely on our head as a helmet. If we love the Word of God as sweeter than honey, we must make the honey a sword. Virtually every “civilian” blessing in the Christian life is conscripted for the war. There is not a warfare part of life and a non-warfare part. Life is war.1
The Absence of Austerity
But most people do not believe this in their heart. Most people show by their priorities and their casual approach to spiritual things that they believe we are in peacetime, not wartime.
In wartime, the newspapers carry headlines about how the troops are doing. In wartime, families talk about the sons and daughters on the front lines and write to them and pray for them with heart-wrenching concern for their safety. In wartime, we are on the alert. We are armed. We are vigilant. In wartime, we spend money differently—there is austerity, not for its own sake but because there are more strategic ways to spend money than on new tires at home. The war effort touches everybody. We all cut back. The luxury liner becomes a troop carrier.
Very few people think that we are in a war that is greater than World War II or any imaginable nuclear war. Few reckon that Satan is a much worse enemy than any earthly foe or realize that the conflict is not restricted to any one global theater but is in every town and city in the world. Who considers that the casualties of this war do not merely lose an arm or an eye or an earthly life but lose everything—even their own soul—and enter a hell of everlasting torment?
In the Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis, Screwtape (the devil) tells Wormwood (a subordinate evil spirit) “not to hope for too much from a war.” He was referring to the agonies of the Second World War. He explains that war will not destroy the faith of real believers and will, thanks to God’s high-handed ways, produce a good deal of unwanted seriousness about life, death, and the issues of eternity. “How disastrous for us,” the devil complains, “is the continual remembrance of death which war enforces. One of our best weapons, contented worldliness, is rendered useless. In wartime not even a human can believe that he is going to live forever.”2 So it may even take a lesser war—such as a World War III or a war of sheer terrorism—to waken us to the more serious war that rages daily for the soul.
Prayer Is for Wielding the Word
Until we feel the force of this, we will not pray as we ought. We will not even know what prayer is. In Ephesians 6:17–18, Paul makes the connection between the life of war and the work of prayer: “Take . . . the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints.” Notice that, true to the original Greek, verse 18 does not begin a new sentence. It connects with verse 17 like this: “Take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication.” Take the sword . . . praying! This is how we are to wield the word—by prayer.
Prayer is the communication with headquarters by which the weapons of warfare are deployed according to the will of God. That’s the connection between the weapons and prayer in Ephesians 6. Prayer is for war.
Missions Is Given as a Field for Prayer
The connection between prayer and missions can be seen in a passage that doesn’t use warfare words but deals with the same reality, namely, John 15:16. Jesus said, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.”
The logic of this sentence is crucial. Why is the Father going to give the disciples what they ask in Jesus’ name? Answer: Because they have been sent to bear fruit. The reason the Father gives the disciples the instrument of prayer is because Jesus has given them a mission. In fact, the grammar of John 15:16 implies that the reason Jesus gives them their mission is so that they will be able to use the power of prayer. “I appointed you that you should go and bear fruit . . . so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you.” This is just another way of saying that prayer is a wartime walkie-talkie. God designed it and gave it to us for use on a mission. You can say the mission is to “bear fruit,” or you can say the mission is to “set the captives free.” The point stays the same: Prayer is designed to extend the kingdom into fruitless enemy territory.
Why Prayer Malfunctions
Probably the number one reason prayer malfunctions in the hands of believers is that we try to turn a wartime walkie-talkie into a domestic intercom. Until you know that life is war, you cannot know what prayer is for. Prayer is for the accomplishment of a wartime mission. It is as though the field commander (Jesus) called in the troops, gave them a crucial mission (go and bear fruit), handed each of them a personal transmitter coded to the frequency of the General’s headquarters, and said, “Comrades, the General has a mission for you. He aims to see it accomplished. And to that end he has authorized me to give each of you personal access to him through these transmitters. If you stay true to his mission and seek his victory first, he will always be as close as your transmitter, to give tactical advice and to send air cover when you need it.”
But what have millions of Christians done? We have stopped believing that we are in a war. No urgency, no watching, no vigilance. No strategic planning. Just easy peace and prosperity. And what did we do with the walkie-talkie? We tried to rig it up as an intercom in our houses and cabins and boats and cars—not to call in firepower for conflict with a mortal enemy but to ask for more comforts in the den.
Times of Great Distress
In Luke 21:34–35, Jesus warned his disciples that times of great distress and opposition were coming. Then he said, “But stay awake at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are going to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man” (v. 36). In other words, following Jesus will lead us into severe conflict with evil. It will mean war. Evil will surround us and attack us and threaten to destroy our faith. But God has given us a transmitter. If we go to sleep, it will do us no good. But if
we are alert, as Jesus says, and call for help in the conflict, the help will come and the Commander will not let his faithful soldiers be denied their crown of victory before the Son of Man. Thus, repeatedly we see the same truth: We cannot know what prayer is for until we know that life is war.
Praying for Peace Is Part of the War
But 1 Timothy 2:1–4 looks as though it might conflict with this battlefield image of prayer. Paul says that he wants us to pray for kings and for all who are in high positions “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (v. 2). Now, that sounds very domestic and civilian and peaceful.
But read on. The reason for praying this way is highly strategic. Verses 3–4 say, “This [praying for peace] is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” God aims to save people from every tribe and tongue and people and nation. But one of the great obstacles to victory is when people are swept up into social, political, and militaristic conflicts that draw away their attention, time, energy, and creativity from the real battle of the universe.
Satan’s aim is that no one be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth. And one of his key strategies is to start battles in the world that draw our attention away from the real battle for the salvation of the lost and the perseverance of the saints. He knows that the real battle, as Paul says, is not against flesh and blood. So the more wars and conflicts and revolutions of “flesh and blood” he can start, the better, as far as he is concerned.
