“How was your weekend?” I asked as the server left our table.
“I heard the most amazing thing on Sunday!” Tom’s eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of a new convert, even though he’s been preaching the gospel longer than I’ve been alive. “Our pastor taught us about the grace of Jesus — the justifying grace of Jesus and the sanctifying grace of Jesus.”
Last Sunday was not the first time Tom had heard about the grace of Jesus. He was saved as a teenager and started preaching soon after. He’s now in his 80s but nowhere near retired from talking about Jesus — and he’s utterly amazed at grace.
Tom expounded on God’s “justifying grace” that washes away our sins, declares us righteous, secures our adoption as God’s sons, and guarantees our eternal life — all through faith in Jesus. “But the grace of Jesus doesn’t just save us from the penalty of our sins,” he continued. “It changes us.”
The conversation paused briefly when the server brought our breakfasts. “You pray, and I’ll pay,” Tom said, reaching across the table to join hands. We thanked God for the gospel, the food, and our friendship. Then, without missing a beat, he spoke about God’s “sanctifying grace,” which continues to change our hearts and lives, freeing us from slavery to sin and transforming us into the image of Jesus. But God’s grace doesn’t make us carbon copies of Christ. No, we become the perfect, Christ-like version of who God made us to be. That led Tom naturally to the ministry of the Holy Spirit, who gifts each of us uniquely for ministry.
It was not only clear that Tom knows how God’s gifted him, but that he loves to use those gifts to tell others about his Savior. “Where I go, the gospel goes.” He wanted to know my story too, to hear how Jesus had changed and is changing me still — and to encourage me to keep pressing into the amazing grace of the gospel.
Breakfast with Tom illustrated perfected what I’d tried to communicate in a devotional talk only a few weeks before: “Let the word of Christ dwell richly among you,” as Paul writes to the saints in Christ at Colossae (Col 3:16).
“The word of Christ” is more than the words Jesus spoke. It is the word that consists of Christ, crucified and risen. It is the news about Jesus — “the word of truth, the gospel” (Col 1:5). It is the message that bears fruit and grows in all who hear it and come to “truly appreciate God’s grace” (1:6). It is the announcement that the Father “has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son he loves. It is the proclamation that, through Jesus, God has reconciled everything to himself “by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (1:20). It is the faith that saves us, provided we “are not shifted away from the hope of the gospel” (1:23).
“The word of Christ” is the good news that we died with Christ, were buried with Christ, and are raised with Christ “through faith in the working of God, who raised him from the dead” (2:11–12). It is justifying grace — God made us “alive with him and forgave us all our trespasses” and triumphed over every authority in heaven and on earth (2:13–15). It is sanctifying grace through which we “are being renewed in knowledge according to the image of your Creator” (3:10). It’s the gospel that goes where Tom goes.
It is that “word of Christ” that is to “dwell” among us. The gospel is to take up residency among God’s people. It is not a tolerated occupancy, in which a guest can stay in the basement provided he is quiet, undemanding, and moving along soon. The gospel is to “dwell richly.” Richly — a substantial residency, occupying every nook and cranny, wafting into every room like the comforting aroma of a holiday dinner.
How does the person and work of Christ dwell richly among his people? Paul tells us, “Let the word of Christ dwell richly among you, in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another” (3:16). The gospel takes up substantial residency among God’s people when God’s people teach and admonish one another.
We’re to be teaching one another the gospel. The gospel dwells among us when we regularly rehearse and unpack the finished work of Jesus with each other. Tom has known the gospel for 70 years. Nevertheless, he wants to be taught the gospel — even by a pastor nearly half his age. And over breakfast, he taught it again to me.
We’re to be admonishing one another with the gospel. We’re to warn one another not to turn away from the gospel for any aspect of our salvation. God’s justifying, sanctifying, and glorifying grace is ours by grace through faith in Christ alone. Tom receives such encouragement from other believers, even as he urges me to cling to Jesus.
What kind of words are we to speak to one another? These are no dutiful recitations of doctrinal statements, dry lectures, or tired platitudes. We teach and admonish one another “through psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.” Devotional words assembled by one who has thought deeply about how the promises of God intersect and speak to every aspect of life. The overflow of living faith — “singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.” The words of sinners who have met the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. The confessions of suffering sheep rescued by the Good Shepherd. One beggar telling another beggar where to find the bread of life.
I left breakfast both filled and hungry. Tom had fed us the gospel — God’s all-sufficient, soul-filling grace in Christ. We’d feasted on our Savior — and I was satisfied. But I was also hungry for more talk of Jesus.
I want to be like Tom, a man whose heart is so filled with the gospel that his mouth can’t help but overflow with it. I’m grieved to think of all the times the gospel didn’t substantially occupy my speech.
What word occupies our coffee breaks, car rides, and social media posts? Does the gospel substantially reside in our sermons, ministry leadership meetings, and counseling sessions? Does Jesus dwell in our management, strategy planning, and problem-solving?
“Where I go, the gospel goes.” Make it true of me, Lord.