The Forgotten Demographic in the Church

With all the buzz about doing evangelism in the church today, it would be helpful if the church exercised a bit more insight and genuine neighbor-love instead of doing what is most comfortable and what boosts the right kind of numbers. This piece by Gene Veith points out the uncomfortable truth for many upwardly-mobile white egalitarian-leaning evangelicals with feminist assumptions: the most unchurched demographic is the white working class.

Well, let's develop church strategies to go after them. No? Why not? Doesn't love call for it?

Budgeting, Planning, and Packing Up Ready to Go

"Budget and plan for an ordinary span of years, but in spirit be packed up and ready to leave at any time" (J. I. Packer, Affirming the Apostles' Creed, 109).

Grace Felicity Wencel

"We believe that we are saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus" (Acts 15:11). This was the testimony of the apostles at the Church's first council in Jerusalem around 49 A.D. And it is our testimony, the Wencel's witness, along with countless millions. From first to last, we live our lives, and we receive our salvation from sin and God's wrath, as a free gift. It is all of grace! Ephesians 2 puts it like this: it "is not our own doing; it is the gift of God, not of works, in order that no one should boast" (vv. 8–9). That is, except in the cross of Christ (Gal. 6:14).

And as partakers of the covenant of grace bought by Jesus' freely shed blood, we are constantly conscious that all we enjoy in this life comes to us from the gratuitous goodness of our triune God, who is the "God of all grace" (1 Pet. 5:10). And this includes not least of all the children God has given us, as we have asked him for these gifts for his glory.

And so on October 24, 2015, at 3:30 in the afternoon, in Joliet, IL, at Presence Saint Joseph Medical Center, the hospital where I work, God brought forth from Emily's womb our fourth child, a gorgeous girl, whom we have named Grace Felicity Wencel. Grace is from the Greek New Testament "charis," which refers to God’s free favor. Felicity derives from the Latin "felicitas," and means "happiness."

Now Grace Felicity is named "Grace" for two main reasons. First, as noted, we live our lives, and have our all, through the free grace of God in Christ. But, second, we have also named her Grace because she is a special gift to us after losing to death's clutches our second and third children (named Anastasis and Elisha, respectively).

Consequently, we know full well that Grace's being conceived and sustained and brought forth into this world, healthy and whole, are not a given. We do live, after all, we're reminded daily, in a broken and fallen world. We know therefore that possession of life for Grace comes to us through the sheer goodness and good pleasure of God, a God who is sovereign over all, a God who is Lord of the womb and Lord of the tomb. And last, though by no means least, we know that salvation from her sins and from God's just judgement—a salvation freely held out to her in Jesus' death and resurrection according to God's everlasting covenant—this salvation, from first to last, from top to bottom, from head to toe, from cradle to grave, from womb to tomb, from first breath to first death, from dust to glory, is all of it of the sheer graciousness of God.

And so standing in grace (Rom. 5:2), we receive from God's good hands, the hands of a loving heavenly Father, our beautiful tiny gift, specially crafted by a Master Maker—Grace Felicity Wencel. And now it's clear why we've named her “Grace.” She's a gift to us from God, and she's dependent on God's good Gift, even as we are. And perhaps, then, you've also perceived why it is that we've given her the middle name "Felicity." As already said, Felicity means "happiness." O the happiness! In our minds this middle name indicates the happiness that overtakes one touched by God's free favor reaching down when the sinner is not reaching up, and it points to the portion of one who is the object of God's free selective favor—divine grace!—a favor freely bestowed before the foundation of the world in Christ. O the happiness! And it also speaks to the happiness God has given us as Grace's parents, in the gift of her life, a life to be offered back up to him in our joy and for his glory.

Now, Grace Felicity Wencel, we shall address you directly. This comes from the hearts and faith of your parents. We would have you know the following, our heart’s desire, and also our prayer to God:

Our precious Grace Felicity Wencel, you are indeed a gift from God to your parents. And we are so thankful for you. In fact, we are doubly thankful, thankful for your physical life, but thankful even more for God’s gracious promise to you of eternal life in Jesus Christ your Lord. We pray that you will never doubt, not for a moment, not for the blink of an eye, the favor of our heavenly Father toward you in his Son. We pray that you will never doubt that God holds out to you freely the justification that is "by his grace through the redemption in Christ Jesus" (Rom. 3:24).

Grace Felicity, you have been born into a covenant home, your parents are recipients of God's free favor, and so grace is already pouring forth from heaven over your life. You are "holy," according to God's Word (1 Cor. 7:14). All you need do is receive it, receive grace, that is, by receiving Christ. Receive him just like you are now receiving all you need from your parents, without a hint of deadly doing, without trying to earn what comes freely to you, coming through those (your parents) who possess far less resourcefulness than your heavenly Father possesses.

And, remember, Grace, even your receiving the grace of God through faith is a gift of God. Faith itself is a gift. It's not something you can work up on your own (Eph. 2:8–9; Phil. 1:29). God has designed it this way, so that you'll never be able to brag about being saved through your own good sense, your own biological pedigree, or your own autonomous willing. No, you are entirely dependent on God’s Gift. Dependent on God's grace!

And you need to know—because your parents' lives know it full well—that grace is sovereign. It is God's doing. Just as you didn't choose your parents, so also your salvation from sin does not come by your own choosing. It comes because God's grace pursues you, it goes after you, it lays hold on you, it will follow you all of your days (Ps. 23:6; ask your daddy about the translation of the Hebrew here). Knowing God as your parents do, and how he has reached down and grabbed hold of us when we weren't reaching up after him, it is our prayer (and expectation!) that God's grace will grab a hold of you and be your portion forever.

And you need to know, our dear daughter, that this is what we've prayed for from the moment that God formed you in the womb. For all we know (and it wouldn't surprise us in the least), God's grace has already transformed you and given you new life. John the Baptist leapt in his mother's womb at the voice of the mother of the Christ (Lk. 1:41). And in Psalm 22 David said this, speaking to God: "You are he who took me from the womb; you made me trust you at my mother's breasts. On you was I cast from my birth, and from my mother's womb you have been my God" (vv. 9–10).

So we, your mother and I, pray earnestly that you will never try to earn God's acceptance. If you ever dare do that, you will "nullify the grace of God; for if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died needlessly" (Gal. 2:21). We pray that you will regularly recall that by the grace of God you are who you are (1 Cor. 15:10). We also pray that you will know deeply in your own life that grace is not just pardon but also power, so that grace toward you will not prove vain, but be seen in your bodily labors, in your good deeds (1 Cor. 15:10). And so may you never receive the grace of God in vain (2 Cor. 6:1).

Soon you will be baptized. We, your parents, will do this in obedience to the Lord Jesus who commanded us to make disciples, "baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey all that [he] commanded" (Matt. 28:19–20). And we shall regularly remind you of the meaning of your baptism. You have been baptized into Christ and into his death (Rom. 6:3). You have been clothed with Christ (Gal. 3:27). And, having been baptized, you belong to Jesus, since you have died with Christ. And since he rose from the dead, you are to walk in the newness of his life (Rom. 6:4).

And now—Grace Felicity Wencel—we "commend you to God and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified" by faith (Acts 20:32; cf. 26:18).

No Other Drama

Vanhoozer:

Preaching is a means of grace because it presents, and makes present, Christ and what is in Christ. In so doing, it reminds listeners who they are and prepares them for their role in the ongoing drama of the Christ. It accomplishes these ends not primarily by informing congregations about systems of theology but rather by forming disciples, and it forms disciples by transforming the interpretive frameworks by which they lead their lives. Gospel preaching takes subevangelical thought captive, exposing the emptiness of other narratives that seek to colonize our imaginations. Gospel preaching speaks forth the true story of the world: that all things "are from him and through him and to him (Rom. 11:36). To preach Christ is to exhort disciples not to live in the world as if some other story were true. For the disciple, there is no other drama (Gal. 1:6–7): there is only the call to follow Christ.

—Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Faith Speaking Understanding: Performing the Drama of Doctrine (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2014), 132.

Death and Resurrection

Ferguson on the structure of John Owen's thought about the ministry of the Spirit of Christ to the believer:

The Spirit brings us into union with the crucified and resurrected Savior and therefore into communion with Him in His death and resurrection. Since this is, as it were, the ground on which the Spirit operates, it also becomes the pattern of the Christian life: death and resurrection, mortification and vivification, putting off the old and putting on the new. Gospel negatives and gospel positives thus become the leitmotif, the melody line, for all of our fellowship with the Son. This was the Apostolic pattern.

—Sinclair Ferguson, The Trinitarian Devotion of John Owen (Sanford, FL: Reformation Trust, 2014), 120–121.

The Gospel of John and Resurrection Joy

I recently finished reading through yet again the Gospel according to John, for something like the thirtieth time since I came first to know the Lord. And what strikes me most this time is how the passion and resurrection narrative of John—if you enter into it and feel what the disciples must have first felt—obviously intends to produce gladness and freedom and relief and amazement.

The Gospel at its heart is full of joy and peace and liberty and wonder! So come on in. Take up and read. And enjoy the joy of the Lord! Freedom—at last! Peace—like no other! Happiness—guaranteed! Life indeed—forevermore! The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed!

Making the Gospel Visible

If Kevin Vanhoozer is right (and I think he is) in saying—"The church is the place not only where the gospel is heard but also where it is seen" (Faith Speaking Understanding, 170)—then surely we ought to give attention to those parts of discipleship or body life that highlight most brightly the visibility of the gospel. Doesn't it follow? Surely it does.

And so we should ask: in what parts of discipleship does the Gospel shine most brightly and visibly? I think the answer, if Scripture is allowed to be our guide, is simple and straightforward: the Lord's Supper, and Christian marriage. Yes, that's right. The Lord's Supper, because it is the Gospel made visible (and tasteful, and tangible, and fragrant) in the corporate, communal life of the fellowship of the redeemed. And Christian marriage, because it too makes the Gospel visible (as Ephesians 5 teaches) in a most poignant manner, in the form of a living parable that points to the greatest of all stories.

There are other ways no doubt that the Gospel becomes visible to disciples in process of becoming "little Christs" (as C. S. Lewis put it) and to a watching world. But I believe the Lord's Supper and Christian Marriage are the two main ways set forth by the Bible for making the gospel perceived with bodily eyes as well as the eyes of the heart. And so I also believe these two ways ought to be underlined in discipleship.

To this we should also add a cruciform life, where the sufferings of Christ for the good of others are seen in the lives of his members (e.g., Gal. 6:17). It is certainly significant, but I don't include it alongside the other two because suffering is more or less visible depending on calling and circumstances. In other words, in any given week or month, you may or may not see much suffering for Christ in the lives of Christians in a given church. But you should always see the Gospel made visible in marriage and the Lord's Supper.

Gospel Visibility and Formation

Vanhoozer:

Local churches would do well to give an even greater role and prominence to the Lord's Supper, perhaps by celebrating it on a weekly basis. If preaching is weekly, why not also the Lord's Supper, a visible word of the gospel, especially when we have an explicit dominical command, "Do this" (Luke 22:19)? Indeed, regular celebration of the Lord's Supper may also be a means of responding to another dominical command, "Make disciples of all nations" (Matt. 28:19), since Communion can be a powerful means of spiritual formation: "It focuses the church's attention on the core realities of the Christian faith: the incarnation, the cross, the resurrection, and the return of Jesus Christ."[1] To get the Lord’s Supper right is thus to grow in understanding of the whole drama of redemption.

—Kevin Vanhoozer, Faith Speaking Understanding, 166.

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[1] John J. Davis, Worship and the Reality of God, 165.

Disciples of Christ and Marital Fidelity

"One of the most important ways disciples act out the reconciliation that is in Christ is by practicing marital fidelity" (Vanhoozer, Faith Speaking Understanding, 154).

The New Way of Fasting in the New Covenant Era

Have you ever read Mark 2:18–22 and scratched your head wondering what on earth Jesus is talking about? I have. Repeatedly. What do his illustrations illustrate? What's with these garments and wineskins? Why does Jesus give us these illustrations when he speaks of fasting? And what do they mean? How do they apply?

Some scholars, sensing a disconnect, suggest that verses 21–22 didn't originally belong with verses 18–20, or that perhaps they ought to be taken as an independent bit of instruction. But such suggestions undoubtedly miss Jesus' point, miss the connection, misunderstanding biblical theology, the gospel of the kingdom, and the nature and relation of the covenants. And so we need not posit the kinds of things scholars are apt to posit when they cannot see how a passage hangs together.

Furthermore, some scholars, who grant a connection, think the old is Judaism, and the new is Christianity. Though there is undoubtedly some truth to this, inasmuch as Judaism was a way of practicing the old in the first century when Jesus gave this instruction, yet it focuses too narrowly on one slice of what Jesus is addressing. John and his disciples are also part of the old (v. 18), however we understand the old. And John and his disciples, we have no reason to doubt, practiced, more or less, old covenant spirituality, and did so in a way that was no doubt God-glorifying. So they point to some practices that align more nearly with faithful old covenant spirituality. But Jesus, to whom John points, goes beyond old covenant spirituality, and supersedes it. And thus viewing the old as narrowly referring to the Judaism of the first century doesn't quite seem to get at the contrast between the new that Jesus' brings over against the old that's gone before.

So here's how I think it works. The illustrations of verses 21 and 22 seem clear enough. The new cannot be put on the old; the new does not fit into the old. The new rips the old; the new bursts the old. The new in some sense is distinct from the old. That's plain. Isn't it? But what's not as plain is how these illustrations illuminate how we're to practice fasting—and, particularly, fasting in the new covenant era.

So, how shall we understand these illustrations with respect to fasting in the new covenant era? Well, I think I've finally understood Jesus, after years of head scratching, and here's my attempt to answer the question. Think it over, and you judge for yourself whether or not you think I've got it right.

You cannot fast the way the saints fasted in the old covenant era. That fasting did not focus on the Bridegroom the way fasting in the new covenant era does. "The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast in that day" (v. 20, italics mine). Is this simply saying that disciples will resume fasting again? No, no. That misses the new element. Fasting in the era of the new covenant purchased with Jesus' blood is Christ-centered. It's oriented on the gospel of the kingdom, a kingdom that dawned in the coming of the incarnate King, a kingdom that comes in all its fullness in his coming again in glory with the holy angels.

So fasting after Christ's first coming longs for Jesus' return. It yearns for the King to bring the kingdom in all its glorious fulness (Matt. 6:10). It strives for God's will to be done on earth as it is being done in heaven (Matt. 6:10). It wants—more than it wants anything—for God's name in Christ to be hallowed and adored and praised and blessed and esteemed above all else (Matt. 6:9). And it pants after the river of God's pleasures that passes through the new Jerusalem (Rev. 22:1–2; Ps. 36:8–9), that is, for God's Spirit poured out in fullness in a new heavens and new earth.

Fasting in the old covenant era did not look like this. And so the new way of fasting, if it does not go beyond the garments and containers of the old, rips and bursts the old. The old is old: it cannot wear the new, cannot contain the new. The new is new: it needs new garments, needs new wineskins. The glory of gospel garments far exceeds the glory of the old garb. The glory of gospel fine wine far exceeds the glory of the old wine. The old had glory; but the new far greater glory. And so it must go on in a new way, a new and living way, centering on Jesus, focusing on the his coming kingdom, longing for the fullness of his fellowship. Having been given the engagement ring in the gift of the Spirit, the new way of fasting longs for that Wedding of all weddings.

We might even be able to extrapolate and make applications more broadly to spiritual disciplines generally: the spiritual disciplines of the old covenant era cannot wear or carry the spiritual disciplines of the new. Christ's coming changes everything. The old had its place in God's plan. And it still does, as it continues to point forward to the realities of the new, as it continues to provide the categories for embracing the King and his new covenant kingdom. But now, with the cataclysmic coming of the new age into and driving out the old, the new age and her crowned King must be the center of all our devotion.

"Then they will fast in that day" (Mark 2:20). Now is "that day." Now is the day of salvation. Now is on the edge of eternity. So come, Lord Jesus. Come! For you we wait. For you alone we long. For your glory we pray. Sweep us off our feet, and take us over the threshold of the new Jerusalem into the everlasting kingdom of God. Forever, and ever. Allelujah! Maranatha!

My Life for Yours, or Your Life for Mine

With the recent revelations and growing scandal vis-à-vis Planned Barrenhood, Doug Wilson continues to write to keep the troops moving apace. Here's a snippet from his latest foray:

God created the world, and He configured it in such a way that there are only two possible ways for persons to interact. They may follow the example of the Lord Jesus, and say “my life for yours,” or they may walk in the way of Cain, who slew his brother, saying “your life for mine.” Those are the only possible options, and for sinners the former way is closed to us and impossible unless the free grace of God intervenes. But when it intervenes, we are then able honestly (albeit imperfectly) to say “my life for yours."

And a little further on:

Everyone in authority — like kings, or parents — has been placed in a position where they will use their authority in line with their fundamental creed. And remember, that creed is either grounded in the gospel, and is “my life for yours,” or it is grounded in self, and must therefore necessarily be “your life for mine.”

The Fierce Christ of Easter Faith

Here's a portion from Timothy P. George's powerful piece over at Patheos, "A Franciscan Moment," which speaks into the discussion of the future of evangelicalism:

As parachurch groups like Campus Crusade and InterVarsity appealed to an earlier generation, so today movements like The Gospel Coalition, Acts 29, and the Passion conferences are calling thousands of young Christians to take up their cross and follow Jesus — not the tame Jesus who would fit in well at a cocktail party but the fierce Christ of Easter faith.

You may read the whole piece here. 

God-Centered Anger

In "Charity Contrary to an Angry Spirit," preached in 1738, Edwards speaks of what God-centered anger looks like:

If men's own private interest was not what men sought, but the glory of God and the common good chiefly, then their spirit would be much more stirred in God's cause than in their own. And they would not be prone to hasty, rash, inconsiderate, immoderate and long continued wrath for injuries to themselves. They would in a great measure forget themselves for God's sake, and Christ's sake; and the end, at which they would aim in their anger, would not be making themselves feared, or getting their own will, but God's glory, and others' good.

—Jonathan Edwards, Ethical Writings (vol. 8 in the Works of Jonathan Edwards; ed. Paul Ramsey; New Haven: Yale University, 1989), 279.

Evangelizing the Cemetery

Mark Dever's post "How to Survive a Cultural Crisis" over at The Gospel Coalition is well worth your time to read.

Here's one choice quote from point one of seven that he makes:

"The whole Christian faith is based on the idea that God takes people who are spiritually dead and gives them new life. Whenever we evangelize, we are evangelizing the cemetery."

He Won for Us Forgiveness, Adoption, and Glory

Packer:

The notion which the phrase "penal substitution" expresses is that Jesus Christ our Lord, moved by a love that was determined to do everything necessary to save us, endured and exhausted the destructive divine judgement for which we were otherwise inescapably destined, and so won us forgiveness, adoption, and glory.

—James I. Packer, "What Did the Cross Achieve? The Logic of Penal Substitution," in Celebrating the Saving Work of God: The Collected Shorter Writings of J. I. Packer Volume 1 (Carlisle, Cumbria: Paternoster), 105.

A Gospel Spirit

"A Christian spirit and a gospel spirit are the same. That is the spirit to which the Christian revelation tends."

—Jonathan Edwards, Ethical Writings (vol. 8 in the Works of Jonathan Edwards; ed. Paul Ramsey; New Haven: Yale University, 1989), 247.

The Priest Pronounces One Clean or Unclean

I just read through Leviticus 13 before going into work today. What can all of this clean and unclean business possibly mean, not least for twenty-first century persons?

For my part, I'm convinced that the main reason the Lord gave the likes of Leviticus is to give us categories for understanding the gospel, for understanding ourselves as sinful, for understanding his holiness, and for understanding his provision in the Christ.

What struck me as of interest in Leviticus 13 as I read it this time is that it is the priest who pronounces one clean or unclean. Here yet again, then, do we have another category given for apprehending the gospel—Christ is the ultimate priest who takes on the role of the one who declares one clean or unclean.

Go have a look. Check it out, here and there and everywhere in the Gospels, including in the upper room where Jesus declares his disciples clean (John 13). He is the ultimate priest to which all other priests point, and he alone has the prerogative of declaring you or me to be clean. 

Christian Love

"Love of benevolence is that disposition which a man has who desires or delights in the good of another. And this is the main thing in Christian love, the most essential thing, and that whereby our love is most of an imitation of the eternal love and grace of God, and the dying love of Christ."

—Jonathan Edwards, Ethical Writings (vol. 8 in the Works of Jonathan Edwards; ed. Paul Ramsey; New Haven: Yale University, 1989), 213.

Controlled by Culture or Christ?

Commenting on the situation in Corinth that Paul is confronting in 2 Cor. 10:1ff, Professor Carson draws out this important contemporary application:

There will always be some who are controlled by a lightly "Christianized" version of their own culture: i.e., their controlling values spring from the inherited culture, even when such values are deeply pagan and not Christian. Christian language may be there; yet the control lies, not with the gospel, but with the pervasive values of the surrounding society and heritage. At that point Paul is inflexible.  

As far as Christians are concerned, wherever there is a clash between cherished inherited culture and the gospel of Jesus Christ, it is the former that must give way and accept modification and transformation. Failure at this point calls in question one's allegiance to the gospel. Unreserved commitment to the priorities of the inherited culture, with select elements of Christianity being merely tacked on, brings with it Paul's inevitable conclusion that the Jesus being preached is "another Jesus," the gospel being proclaimed is a "different gospel," and those who proclaim such an Evangel are "deceitful workmen masquerading as apostles of Christ" (2 Cor 11:4, 13) 

Moreover, those professing Christians who, like the Corinthians, show themselves to be profoundly sympathetic to this non-Christian orientation of values must at very least examine themselves again to see if they really are in the faith (13:5). 

—D. A. Carson, From Triumphalism to Maturity: An Exposition of 2 Corinthians 10–13 (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1984), 40–41.

What Is a Christian?

Amid much confusion in the modern world about what it means to be a Christian (yes even, lamentably, in "Christian" churches), I offer this simple and straightforward three-fold description. It's not the only way to put it, but it's an important way: a way that gets right to the heart of the matter, as I see it, and as I believe the Bible teaches us.

Here it is. Christians are those who call on the name of the Lord Jesus, who are joined to the risen Jesus, and who follow Jesus wherever he goes and directs.

So, to be a Christian—a saint, a holy one, called of God—is, first, to be one who calls on the name of the Lord Jesus (1 Cor. 1:2; Rom. 10:13; cf. Acts 2:21; 9:14). Christians call on the name of the risen and exalted Lord Jesus, seated at God's right hand, having paid for sins by his death, coming again in power and glory. That's what makes us Christians. He is preached as Lord of all, perceived to be Lord over all, and then called upon as the King of kings and Lord of lords.

Now I know that both what this calling on his name consists in and an accurate knowledge of the one who is being called upon are not at all secondary or peripheral considerations. They're crucial. And so, for example, and briefly, I'll state what is involved here: it includes consciously calling in faith and trust on the name of the one who is God become man, who died a substitute death for sinners under God's just judgment, and who rose from the grave triumphant and exalted as King and Savior and Judge of the nations—our righteousness, treasure, wisdom, new creation, everlasting hope. And so, although there much more to be said in this vein, nevertheless, one basic and compressed way of describing Christians in the matrix of right belief is by saying Christians are those who call on the name of the risen Lord Jesus (understanding that "name" in the ancient world carries with it the sense of one's character and authority; we might say, the name conveys who the person really is).

Second, to be a Christian is to be a person united with Jesus; or, which is the same thing, to be a person united with Jesus' body, the Church (1 Cor. 12:12-27; Col. 1:18). John 15:1-11 describes this union as "abiding in" Jesus as branches organically connected to a vine. The letters of Paul routinely speak of Christians being "in Christ," or being blessed "with Christ," or with some such similar expression. The occurrences of this participation language are too numerous to cite here. Reading through any of Paul's epistles will provide the perspective, but a good place perhaps to go first is Rom. 6:1-11 and 8:1-39, and then perhaps Ephesians and Colossians. Christians, then, have been joined to Jesus. And the New Testament teaches us abundantly that this happens by faith and baptism, in the power and grace of the Holy Spirit.

Third, to be a Christian—a person set apart for God—is to be one who follows the Lord Jesus in faith and obedience, in child-like trust and willing submission. That is to say, Christians are disciples of Jesus, sitting at his feet as learners, hanging on his every word, doing what pleases him. We Christians thus set ourselves to "follow the Lamb wherever he goes" (Rev. 14:4). And while many texts could be cited to point out how calling Christians "followers of Christ" is an apt description, a sample from the book of Acts will do, where the first Christians are frequently simply referred to as "disciples." See Acts 6:1, 2, 7; 9:1, 10, 19, 25, 26, 38; 11:26, 29; 13:52; 14:20, 22; 15:10; 16:1; 18:23, 27; 19:1, 9, 30; 20:1, 30; 21:4, 16.

Well, now, there you have it: Christians are those who call on the name of the Lord Jesus, who are joined to the risen Jesus, and who follow him as his disciples.