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Like a roaring, rushing tide of filth and near-bestial behavior, Jersey Shore has broken onto the cultural beach. Surely it will soon fade away; unfortunately for standards of public decency, the tide has not yet receded. This may come as a surprise to some Christians, whose interest in the show ranks just behind belly button lint accumulation and just ahead of embossed Christmas sweater prints.

Lest you mentally revoke my TGC-writing credentials, I have very little experience with this show. Like a car horn beeping its angry tune outside one’s bedroom window, its presence has (however distantly) entered my life, displeased though this makes me.

Somehow, without any real engagement with this veritable MTV franchise, I have become familiar with a key concept of the show: GTL, a concept pioneered by Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino. GTL stands for for “gym, tan, laundry,” the absolutely essential daily tasks in the eyes of certain cast members. Struggling to figure out what to do with the day? Perform your GTL, and you’re good to go. Ordinary citizens could be forgiven for wondering why people flock to watch other sentient beings lift weights and use coin-operated laundry facilities. But the prospect of observing Jersey Shore cast members carry out GTL is apparently too exciting to resist for many 18- to 35-year-olds.

Why read Ovid’s Metamorphoses when you could watch a New Jersey natives wash their socks? Why serve your community when the possibility of observing a female slugfest awaits? These and other questions currently drive the young American psyche and almost singlehandedly consign us to civilizational decline. Opponents of American exceptionalism—do not fret. Soon, all your fears will be quelled, and you need not even raise your voice to make it happen.

Here’s the Situation: GTL

I got to thinking about this idea of GTL the other day. The idea of rigid discipline of any form as practiced by young men or women in our decadent, anti-authority clime interests me. Yes, “The Situation” has left his mark on me. Apparently “The Situation” (I am undyingly committed to these scare quotes) is the foremost proponent of the GTL system, which revolves around relentless upkeep of one’s physique, skin, and clothing. Day after day, “The Situation” rededicates himself to his regimen, which brings him the natural comforts of ritual. He finds a certain structure and regimen in his life, and he ends up, in his opinion at least, looking good by it and thus fulfilling his goal—attracting women.

My mental meandering down this most verdant of paths led me to a pretty serious if simple conclusion, all kidding aside. “The Situation” is rigorously committed to, well, doing his laundry. He exemplifies disciplined pursuit of things that truly matter to him. Sadly, these ends are not ultimate; they are trivial and in many cases sinful. This does not obscure the point, however; for Christians, profitable rebuke can show up in the unlikeliest of places. If Mike Sorrentino can devote himself rigorously to what he sees as important, why do I struggle to do the same, when I am captured by Christ and given all things in him (Rom. 8:32)?

What ‘Jersey Shore’ Gets Right: The Need for Discipline

Some might think that such discipline seems antithetical to a life freed from the power of the Old Covenant law. It is true that if we are saved, we are not bound by the law. The Spirit has freed us to worship God. It will be difficult to do so, however, without discipline. I get into this a little bit in my chapter on sanctification in the hot-off-the-presses Don’t Call It a Comeback, but let me briefly say that much as young Christians today might eschew duty-driven faith, we will find it eminently difficult to follow Christ faithfully for five decades if we do not have a proper conception of spiritual discipline. Like Paul with his body, so we who would live for Christ must rigorously train ourselves to hate sin and to love righteousness, to avoid unprofitable activities and to embrace edifying patterns (see 1 Cor. 9:27).

Following Jesus doesn’t mean that we simply avow a “gospel-centered life” and then live like the Devil on his day off. It means that we pursue the killing of sin and the obedience of faith as if the very power of God resides in us—because it does (1 Cor. 6:19). To paraphrase a point I’ve heard D. A. Carson make about Christ’s fulfillment of the law, the gospel-driven life doesn’t look less dedicated to God on a practical level than its alternatives; while never legalistic, it looks more dedicated to him.

I would encourage readers to continue regular maintenance of their laundry (L). I would also say that it is great to take care of one’s body (G). Many evangelicals could stand to do so. Like any self-respecting man, I cannot commend artificial or spray tanning (T), and would in fact recommend some sort of measured but swift retribution for men who do. Even more important than some form of GTL, however, I wonder if I might offer you my own life-discipline formula that you are completely free to tweak: “BPS”—Bible, Pray, Serve. I am regularly amazed by how closely my affections are tied to my devotional practices. The more Bible I read, the stronger my faith is. It is hard to surpass the sheer intake of Scripture as a means to spiritual growth. The same is true of prayer—the heart that is inspired by reading of the Word pours out its praise, intercession, and confession to the Lord. When fueled by these disciplines, the effect is something like working out and eating a protein-rich breakfast—you’re powered up and ready to serve God by building up the church and reaching the lost.

One can do these things out of harmful, box-checking motives. One can also do them out of a God-glorifying desire to grow in grace, kill sin, and experience more of what John Piper has called “the pleasures of God.”

Spiritual Discipline: So Much More Than Laundry

Just like “The Situation” upbraids his army of Ed Hardy-wearing gym heroes to GTL, so can a believer gripped by the reality of the gospel urge his fellow sinners to BPS. Our devotion will always fall short. We will have to guard against thinking our passionate discipline somehow earns our justification. If we were to approach our faith the same way some self-professed Guidos approach their tan, would that not speak volumes to how seriously we take Christ?

Would it not show a world obsessed with itself and the promotion of such that there is something infinitely greater?

We don’t need more legalism. We do, though, need more disciplined but exuberant followers of Christ. All Christians can do their BPS, though in an age when men are shuffling through life, whining about hardship, causing young women to suffer quietly in abnormal singleness, there is a special need for them to adopt a way of life.

The end of our devotion is not our own carefully cultivated self-image, or bedding more women, or living in a never-ending adolescent fantasy world. It is the glory of God in Christ as enacted by the power of the Spirit. With this motive in mind, we discipline ourselves, in order that we might reach those trapped in all kinds of sin-induced situations under the threat of judgment. In love, we pursue growth; in love, we pursue the lost, whether a reality TV star or the little old lady next door.

Is there enough evidence for us to believe the Gospels?

In an age of faith deconstruction and skepticism about the Bible’s authority, it’s common to hear claims that the Gospels are unreliable propaganda. And if the Gospels are shown to be historically unreliable, the whole foundation of Christianity begins to crumble.
But the Gospels are historically reliable. And the evidence for this is vast.
To learn about the evidence for the historical reliability of the four Gospels, click below to access a FREE eBook of Can We Trust the Gospels? written by New Testament scholar Peter J. Williams.

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