Dr Paul Allen

Grayson Gilbert It is little wonder why a verse like Romans 8:28 is a rally cry to many Christians. We consider Paul’s words, “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose,” and apply them through various instances of life to find encouragement.  Yet the richness of this verse goes well beyond merely the fact that God does indeed work all things to good for those who love God. The specific framework Paul works within in the context of chapter 8 is set in light of the glories that await us beyond this earth. In Romans 8:18-25, Paul speaks of the reality of human suffering in a broken and fallen world that is eagerly awaiting the redemption of all things through Christ. While presently, this life is fraught with many trials and tribulations, the sufferings we experience are to be counted as incomparable with the glories to come. We groan, we wail, we suffer—yet with much hope as we persevere to th

One year ago, we lost our youngest daughter to her longstanding battle against addiction. Walking alongside her in this multiyear struggle sank us into parts of this broken world we never dreamed we would inhabit. Dark places with desperate people became familiar terrain. We fought for life. Death won. Now our precious daughter is gone. Each morning I stare into the eyes of her 2-year-old son, now entrusted to us. Since then, I’ve learned a lot about grief. I have seen how it attacks meaning and motivation. Grief creeps up and seizes a moment, an hour, an afternoon. I think it’s going to be like this for a while. The shadow of death; the empty chair; the burden of shame; the clay pot, broken. Ministry, if I’m honest, is conflicting. It’s been more splendid than I possibly expected and more painful than I ever dreamed. Somewhere along the way, I began to think differently about resilience. It’s no longer the place I am reaching for after the pain. It’s the work of God, in and through my

Which mark of the church is most neglected today? Could it be expositional preaching or the practice of church discipline? Could it be training leaders who live up to the character qualities outlined in the pastoral epistles? If we could ask Martin Luther, we might be surprised by his answer. In On the Councils and the Church (1539), he outlines seven marks of the church. The first six are what you’d expect: God’s church is recognized by (1) possession of God’s Word, (2) right administration of baptism, (3) right administration of communion, (4) exercise of church discipline, (5) qualified leadership, and (6) worship characterized by prayer and thanksgiving. Luther’s seventh mark, however, may surprise you. He says that Christian lives must be shaped by the cross. “The holy Christian people are externally recognized by the holy possession of the sacred cross,” he writes. “They must endure every misfortune and persecution, all kinds of trials and evil from the devil, the world, and the

1. Why are we to rejoice in our suffering? Several New Testament passages report the joy our Lord’s first followers felt when they suffered (see, e.g., Rom. 5:3-5; Col. 1:24; Heb. 10:34). Several others tell us that, as Jesus’ followers, we should—indeed, we must1—rejoice, be glad, and consider ourselves blessed when we suffer or undergo persecution, trials, and any other sort of difficulties (see, e.g., Matt. 5:11-12; 2 Cor. 12:10; James 1:2; 1 Pet. 4:13).  But undergoing these things is, by its very nature, unpleasant and, in fact, suffering can be defined as experiencing something that is unpleasant enough that we want it to end. So why are we to rejoice in our suffering? It is because we are to possess the mind of Christ, who, even though he was God, emptied himself to become a human being so that he could suffer and die for our sins (see Phil. 2:5-11; Mark 10:45; Rev. 5:9).  During his earthly lifetime, his disciples had rejected his claim that he, as the one whom they had become

Anxiety is mystifying and elusive. Some people have experienced debilitating anxiety that has found them in the back of an ambulance, while others have the occasional anxious thought that passes briefly through their minds before they fall into a peaceful sleep. For some, anxiety can make it difficult to perform daily rudimentary tasks. For others, anxiety comes around only a few times every year and doesn’t significantly disrupt everyday life. Whatever form anxiety takes, Christians need to know how to meet it with biblical directives and wisdom for our unsettled hearts. When anxiety rears its ugly head, what are we to do? When anxiety is a constant companion for the Christian, how do we remain faithful? Before considering these questions, it’s worth noting that our God-given fight-or-flight instincts are good.   God created our brains to alert us to potential danger. But our brains are subject to the effects of the fall, so our danger-sensing systems can sometimes lead us astray. No

Sometimes the pain in our lives is so intense that we can barely breathe. It doesn't feel like we deserve the pain (and perhaps we don't), and it is unjust for God to allow us to walk through the darkness. One of the worst things that someone can say at that time is to quote Romans 8:28, so before those times come we need to decide whether or not God is all good all the time, and whether or not he works in all things for good. There is so much pain in this world, pain that far exceeds my own. Adult survivors of abuse — sexual, physical, emotional. I remember a single mom in our church trying desperately to find a family to adopt her three children before she died of cancer. But pain is our teacher, and I slowly learned the meaning of Romans 8:28–30. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the fi

If someone asks me, “Do you think God planned for those planes to fly into the World Trade Center towers in New York on 9/11 in 2001?” I answer in two ways. I say, “If God cannot blow a plane with his breath a hundred feet off course to the right, then he’s not God.” And I say, “If we surrender the all-governing providence of God in order to save him from any causality in those tragic events, then by saving him, I lose him as a sovereign, wise God who can give meaning and strength and hope to those who have lost the most in this tragedy.” In other words, it is the very sovereignty by which he governed those jets that enables him to govern all things for the good of tens of thousands of survivors who look to him for strength and purpose and hope in their massive losses. So, my sixth precious, real-life effect of seeing and savouring the all-governing providence of God is that this providence assures us that the so-called “problem” of God’s sovereignty in suffering is more than relieved

Suffering, you should know by now, is most unpredictable. Most assuredly it can harden the heart — pushing out the very possibility of a kind, powerful, all-knowing God. Or (as you better hope is not your case) it can be the very thing used by the Enemy to rob our knives and forks of their roast. Have you not glanced over the apostle’s shoulder lately? Not all suffering ends up advancing our cause. We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:3–5) Who means for suffering to encourage such a horrid thing as endurance, nephew? Do we mean for suffering to produce in them — and I struggle to even write the word — hope? The punctured lungs, the groans and pains, at every turn, threaten to terribly backfire. The Enemy knows this well enough, and for all his t

Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully,  inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories. It was revealed to them that they were serving not themselves but you, in the things that have now been announced to you through those who preached the good news to you by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven, things into which angels long to look. 1 Peter 1:10–12 Tucked away in Peter’s prologue, we find the above encouragement that us believers dare not miss. This fisherman-turned-preacher introduces his epistle by magnifying the glories of the gospel for persecuted Christians and comforting sufferers with the benefits of our salvation. When Peter reaches verse 12, he stirs the heart of every faithful pastor with two realities: what we preach (our message), and how we preach (our muscle). We know Peter is talking to preach

How do we respond when life seems meaningless? When the suffering hits and the wave of suffering we feel seem, itself, to be totally pointless, what then?  So, Paul really does experience not losing heart because of truths, realities that he puts into his head day by day, day by day, for renewal. Look to the Unseen Now, one more step: What about the for at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 4:17? We’re going to beat verse 16 to death if we don’t move on. But my, there’s a lot of life in there. He doesn’t give up easily. I love to pound on verses till they’re dead. That’s an odd way to say it, isn’t it? We do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For [because] this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Cori