How Box Office Superheroes Reveal American Spiritual Beliefs

All those box office superheroes wouldn't seem to have a strong connection to American spirituality, would they? Aren't those silly movies simply the big-screen realization of the adolescent fantasies of adult men?

Well, maybe they are. But as a Vanity Fair blog (not linked due to content) recently suggested, perhaps there's more of a spiritual edge to this cultural trend than one might think. Here's what a couple of hugely influential figures, writer Frank Miller and director Guillermo Del Toro, had to say about this trend:

“Every great civilization has its superheroes,” says Miller. “America is just a much, much younger civilization… You couldn’t find a better version, in America, of the Pantheon of ancient Greece [than superheroes],” which could be why they’re such an enduring draw.

Del Toro seconds the point: “There is still a longing for mythos, for a spiritual Pantheon. And in an era where we have enshrined materialism to such a degree and we have killed off every conceit that seems to be weak and based on religion—New Age, all those types of things—the only sort of acceptable mythology, I think, is superhero mythology.”

That may sound like comic-book-nerd hyperbole, but the comparison with Greek mythology is actually relevant, to a point. For one thing, to the ancients, preposterous tales of heroic feats were not to be taken literally. “It’s not that they were ‘believed,’” says Harvard Classics Professor Gregory Nagy. “That is a Christian concept. Rather, myths about heroes were accepted as valid narratives about moral truths that helped explain life.”

There's something here, I think. There's a certain slice of American society that wants little part of traditional religion. The idea of God as a sovereign being is less attractive than a picture of divinity that emphasizes humanness. Aside from the massive explosions, cool graphics, and technological gadgetry, one reason that so many people may be flocking to superhero films is that they tap into a current of American spirituality. People want heroes who are unlike them--heroes who can vanquish their enemies--and yet they also want heroes who are like them, who have real flaws and weaknesses and battles. The Greek gods fit this mold millenia ago, and the American comic book superheroes fit it today.

What does this mean for the Christian church? It's fairly obvious, I suppose. While teaching unbelievers about our sovereign God, we need to keep in mind that people are looking for a person who is both like them and not like them. In other words, Jesus Christ fits well with this current of spirituality. This is not to say that Christ had flaws or sins--He did not. However, He did take on human flesh, embrace the difficulties of an authentic human existence, and face terrible temptation, suffering, and pain, just as we all do, even as He was powerful to an extent that confounds the imagination (another point to raise with the lost). The doctrine of Christ's humanity is not a theological afterthought, a footnote to the more majestic stuff. It is a strange, mysterious and quite moving aspect of the faith we claim. As the little poster says on the door of TEDS professor John Woodbridge's door, "History is filled with men who would be gods...but only one God who would be man."

In your conversations with unbelievers, particularly those who might be drawn to superheroes (and that's a pretty sizeable populace, given current box office numbers), make sure that you share about both the divine and human aspects of our Lord. Though we may not fully comprehend the wonder of it all, Jesus became like us in order to save us (see Hebrews 2, 4). He is a majestic Lord, and He will return to this world in flaming majesty to judge it in a level of spectacle no movie can present. Yet He was also a human being, one who wept and hurt and bled. He knows the sorrows of this earth, having become intimately acquainted with them in His incarnation.

The people around us do not need an Iron-man, or a Batman, or any other superhero--they need a Christ, a Messiah, and the good news is that He has come, and died, and He waits to receive the broken, the weak, the lost, and to give them His life, His strength, His love.

The Week-est Link, August 1, 2008

1. Have you heard about the Henry Center's CCI essay series for college students? If not, you should check it out, and pass on a few essays to some thoughtful students that you know.

2. As one who loves studying urban churches, and who loves to see urban churches with a vision for the city, I found Desiring God's plans for their new facilities interesting.

3. Readers of this blog know that I'm trying to think through how it is that all of Scripture testifies to Christ. I found this Reformation 21 article on how Proverbs speaks to Christ helpful.

4. Speaking of innovative urban churches, I've enjoyed checking out the website of Park Community Church. They've got vision, and they're making things happen in downtown Chicago.

5. You should check out this music video from Christian musician Brooke Fraser's video "Shadowfeet". She's got a cool style. Couldn't hurt to pick up her cd.

6. Do you want really cute headgear for your little girl? Yes? Check out Brilliant Bows. My friend Stephanie Rogers (wife of fellow TEDS church history student Mark Rogers) has a great home business going. I encourage you to support it.

--Have a great weekend, everyone.

Comments on God Delighting in Small (New England) Churches

From Paul Buckley in Methuen, MA (check out his excellent, Christ-exalting blog)--

"I pastor a Sovereign Grace Ministries Church in New England, King of Grace Church. Thanks for your encouraging post! Pastoring in New England has been a wonderful adventure of learning to glory in Christ and the precious folks he does give us and not in our relative church size. It is one thing to say I am pastoring for God's glory, it is another to be tested with small success yet still labor. There are many here as Josh said who have labored faithfully for years (far beyond mine). They are my heroes.

I trust their faithful prayers and labors will indeed be answered in time with new converts, new church plants and a region full of disciples who will surpass them in zeal, knowledge and faithfulness. We intend to labor for Christ and His glory regardless of outcome yet we continue to ask for a greater harvest."

From Mike Freeman in Ohio (formerly of Maine)--

"Having grown up in a Maine small church, I agree with Owen. Additionally, I have labored as a lay youth leader for the past six years at at a church in southwest Ohio. I can say with certainty that the folks in Maine, by and large, "get it." In Ohio, the bible belt, many people go to church because that's what you are supposed to do- even fundamental evangelical churches. In Maine, most people don't go to church; the ones that do come actually seem to want to be there."

Are there other pastors out there who want to comment on the original blog I wrote? I would love more testimony on what it is like to pastor a small church and how you handle it.

To my knowledge, this subject is not often talked about. Small churches are something of the elephant in the room in many evangelical circles. We all know they're there (in large numbers), but as our environment is suffused with notions of success and grandiosity, we don't want to talk about them much or really even acknowledge they're around. We'd much rather talk about the "success stories" than the churches who are, in their quest for faithfulness, achieving a certain numerical mediocrity.

This (extended) blog is no attempt to demonize large churches. Far, far from it. I give thanks to God for large churches that are faithful to the gospel. God often uses them in special ways. God blesses many, many people through them. For Bethlehem and Covenant Life and other churches of similar size and gospel focus, I am thankful to God. But we must not think that these churches alone are faithful and glorifying to God. If our definition of God's glory is measured along metric lines, we are surely off. If faithfulness must in some way equal numerical prosperity, we are certainly wrong. The very message of the Bible is that God takes pleasure in the few. God, unlike men, does not need recognizable size and prosperity--in terms of His followers--to be delighted. The message of the Bible is that God loves His people. He loves the few. He loves the remnant. He delights in the faithful, self-sacrificial lives of His people. It is not massive size that He searches the earth for. He searches it for faithfulness.

The Bible is rife with stories that support this basic idea. Try it out--test this theme out. Read through your Bible, and see how often God delights in a people who are small in number but great in devotion. See how little emphasis there is on the mere size of things. Tiny Israel, puny David, Gideon's 300, the faithful remnant, the mustard seed, the scattered disciples, the overmatched apostles, the slain martyrs--this is just a tiny selection of biblical matters that show with clarity the joy God takes in the few. In so many of these things, in fact, it is God's explicit design for His numbers to be small.

When a church is small, then, we must not rush to feel bad for it, or wonder what has gone wrong, or contrive many ways to fix it. Perhaps change is needed. But it may well be that God is delighting in the small size of the congregation, taking joy in their gathered worship, smiling as they evangelize and celebrate His supper and struggle to fill an oversized room. Knowing God's character from the Bible, wouldn't it be just like Him to do so?

Theologian Russ Moore on the Story of Scripture

Today, I found a great link from Tim Challies's website. Dr. Russ Moore has just published a lengthy and incisive essay on the story of Scripture. It relates heavily to the development of Christocentric theology, a topic I've discussed at times on this blog and one which I'm working through in seeking to develop my own theological system.

In hopes of advancing this discussion, here are three sections from Moore's essay, "Beyond a Veggie Tales Gospel: Why We Must Preach Christ from Every Text."

1. What Scripture is fundamentally about--

"Every text of Scripture--Old or New Testaments--is thus about Jesus, precisely because, at the end of the day, everything in reality is about Jesus. Why is there something instead of nothing? Why are human beings religious? Why do people want food and water and sex and community? Why are there galaxies and quasars and blue whales and local churches? God is creating all that is for His heir, for the glory of Jesus Christ. When you see through Jesus, you see the interpretive grid through which all of reality makes sense.

With this in mind, the Scripture tells us that all of Scripture tells us the story of Jesus. The Gospel writers show us how Jesus fulfills the Scripture, but, interestingly enough, He doesn't simply fulfill direct and obvious messianic prophecies. He also relives the story of Israel itself--exiled in Egypt, crossing the Jordan, being tempted with food and power in the wilderness during a forty-day sojourn there. Jesus applies to Himself language previously applied to Israel and its story--He is the vine of God, the temple, the tabernacle, the Spirit-anointed kingship, the wisdom of God Himself."

2. How the story of Scripture can be missed, and corrupted--

"There's plenty of Veggie Tales preaching out there, and it's not all for children. As a matter of fact, the way we teach children the Bible grows from what we believe the Bible is about--what's really important in the Christian life. There's also such a thing as Veggie Tales discipleship, Veggie Tales evangelism, even erudite and complicated Veggie Tales theology and biblical scholarship. Whenever we approach the Bible without focusing in on what the Bible is about--Christ Jesus and His Gospel--we are going to wind up with a kind of golden-rule Christianity that doesn't last a generation, indeed rarely lasts an hour after it is delivered.

Preaching Christ doesn't simply mean giving a gospel invitation at the end of a sermon--although it certainly does entail that. It means seeing all of reality as being summed up in Christ, and showing believers how to find themselves in the story of Jesus, a story that is Alpha and Omega, from the spoken Word that calls the universe together to the Last Man who governs the universe as its heir and King."

3. How Christ's centrality in Scripture and life relates to our lives as Christians--

"It is only when I see what God is doing with the world through Christ, and for the glory of Christ, that I am able to see where I fit in the big storyline of the universe or in the little storyline of my own life. The Apostle Paul's words to the Romans are familiar passages of comfort for believers. "And we know that fro those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose" (Rom 8:28). This verse does not mean, however, simply a cheery "What doesn't kill you'll make you stronger; hang in there." Instead, Paul says that the believer's little story ultimately is a glorious one because it is part of a larger story, that I may be "conformed to the image of His Son, that He may be the firstborn among many brothers" (Rom 8:29). How do I know that my story ends happily? I only know this if I am found in Christ.

But, if I am, then like all my forefathers and foremothers before me, I am free from condemnation, liberated from the curse, triumphant over death, the heir of the universe, the child of God in whom He is well pleased. How do I know this? I know it because I know the story of Jesus. I know that David may be dead and buried--but Jesus was raised. I know that Moses may never have walked in the Land of Promise--but Jesus has received it. I know that Abraham never saw with his eyes his descendants outnumber the stars--but Jesus stands before His Father, "Behold, I and the children God has given me" (Heb 2:13). I know that when the Accuser indicts me of sin, that I am worthy of sharing a lake of fire with him and his minions, I point to Jesus Christ, and announce, "I have already been to hell--and, in Christ, there is therefore now no condemnation."

This is beautiful, rich, weighty writing. Whether you agree with every point or not, I would encourage you to read the entire piece. It would be great for a Bible study or group of Christians to think through together. Or, it would be great simply to think through on your own as you attempt to piece out the story of Scripture, the story of your life, and the way the two fit together.

If Jesus Spent Lots of Time with Unbelievers, Why Do Most of Us Hang Out Only with Christians?

Surfing Vitamin Z's excellent blog, I came across a thoughtful post on evangelism by Joe Carter this morning that prompted some thinking on my part. Entitled rather provocatively "How Do You Love a Porn Star?", the piece tackles the following simple but tough question: why don't many Christians regularly interact with the lost people who make up 99% of the surrounding populace?

In asking this question, Carter offers a story of a Marine friend who was nice, fatherly, and happened to be involved in pornography. The piece chronicles Carter's struggle to handle his friendship with a man for whom he felt both revulsion and love. This section nicely encapsulates the central theme and problem of the post:

"Because of his peculiar vocation, Dave Connors may seem like an unrepresentative example. But we all have people like him in our lives--acquaintances, coworkers, family members--who have no intention of giving up their sinful ways. How do we make a friend of someone who chooses to remain an enemy of God?

Normally this would be the point in the post where I would insert a homiletic bromide that would point the way toward a resolution. On this one, though, I not only don't have an answer; I don't have a clue. Somehow I've managed to spend thirty years as a Christian without learning something so basic as how to truly love an impenitent sinner."

I first Joe Carter for his candor. The simplicity and honesty of that last sentence blew over me like a spring breeze when I first read it. I've been a Christian for three decades, Carter says, and have heard countless sermons about Christ's love for fallen mankind. Reading between the lines, he's telling fellow Christians that, like them, he has heard Sunday School lessons, read Christian books, and attended countless church gatherings that have instructed him (theoretically) in approaching lost people with the gospel. Yet with all of this teaching, he struggles mightily to take even the shortest gospel step: to get to know lost people and befriend them for the sake of Christian love and witness.

I don't have anything particularly profound to add to this comment. It seems to me to encapsulate the central struggle of many--most, maybe--Christians regarding evangelism. The new man inside of us loves the things of God, and detests naturally the things that are not of God. This is a biblical disposition and reality--see Colossians 3:9-11, for example. Yet though this is a God-given disposition, we acquire a simultaneous impulse when regenerated and renewed by the Spirit. We acquire the impulse to spread and share the gospel with fellow sinners (Rom 10:9-17). So revulsion with sin sits alongside love for sinners as expressed in evangelism. We have these twin instincts, then. Knowing this, we note a third key biblical teaching. This one is a teaching handed down by way of example. Christ, who had no sin nature, did have the gospel imperative within Him, and He went to the lost--five incredibly important words--and hung out with them for the purpose of love-driven gospel witness. Here's what Mark 2:15-17 tells us about Christ and His example:

While Jesus was having dinner at Levi's house, many tax collectors and "sinners" were eating with him and his disciples, for there were many who followed him. When the teachers of the law who were Pharisees saw him eating with the "sinners" and tax collectors, they asked his disciples: "Why does he eat with tax collectors and 'sinners'?"

On hearing this, Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."

Christ's example is to be emulated by His disciples, a number that includes all born-again believers today. The above instance was not a strange evangelistic strategy, a guerilla campaign carried out by the spiritual Rambo in the enemy's lair. It was fundamentally what Christians are to do in carrying out the Great Commission.

Sometimes we get into evangelical catfights about tracts, door-knocking, and gospel proclamation. Paul taught that wherever the gospel was proclaimed, he rejoiced: "In every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice." (Phil. 1:17) While we may find wisdom in pursuing certain evangelistic strategies over others, we should not--definitively--debase preaching of the gospel, no matter how much it conflicts with our cultural sensibilities. We may not adopt a certain method, but the preaching of the gospel is a strange and mysterious thing, and God uses all kinds of methods to bring people to Himself. With this all said, one model of evangelism that we can clearly derive from Scripture is that we are to go to unbelievers, befriend them, spend time with them, and witness to them. We are not only to go to them and witness to them. Jesus spent time with them. He got to know them. He talked with them. We should do the same. The Scripture is clear.

We should not do so without carefulness, though. Christians who shrink from contact with unbelievers are getting something right. We are influenced by those we spend time with. If we are to hang out with lost people, then, we've got to be very careful. We've all seen Christians who hang out with lost people for the purpose of evangelism and end up drifting away from the faith and adopting the lifestyle of those around them. It is not silly or foolish to seek in a studious manner to avoid this result. Nothing less than our souls are at stake, after all! However, with care and principle and accountability and connection to our local church, we must venture forth from the community of faith to the community of unbelief. We've got to get to know those around us, and that means joining bowling leagues, hanging out at the local coffee shop, inviting neighbors over for dinner, going to a library reading group, attending neighborhood association meetings, and so on. As we join in these activities, we do so looking to build up friendships, to listen and help others, and above all, to witness to the reality of Christ's death and resurrection to those who reject this life-saving work.

I do not hold myself as an exemplar of the model of evangelism laid out by Christ in Mark 2. I don't have it all figured out. I would struggle just like Joe Carter to be a friend and witness to someone who is desperately lost. I have similar feelings to most Christians in my approach to sexual profligates, oft-drunk coeds, loopy hippys, materialistic bankers, narcissistic teens, snobby old people, homeless street-walkers, arrogant athletes, ideological demagogues, and hostile ruralites. Put simply, I don't really want to be around these people. I don't want to be in bad places where these type of people congregate. I don't want to go through the messy work of friendship. I want to be around nice Christian people in nice Christian environments where people encourage me, don't swear, don't have premarital sex, and don't look down on me. This means on a practical, day-to-day level that I spend most of my time around Christians in expressly Christian environments doing explicitly Christian things.

This way of life is so far from Christ's example that one could almost say that it is an unChristian life. This lifestyle gets right, as mentioned above, the need to pursue holiness, and that is commendable. That's a big deal in the Bible! But it gets hugely wrong the need to take one's faith to the lost. The Christians of the Bible do anything but lock their faith in evangelical ghettos--they crash the gates of the secular city. They make themselves unavoidable presences in the lives of unbelievers. They come together for rich, sweet, God-drenched fellowship and then they scatter to the winds to evangelize like crazy anyone they can (I'll just refer you to the entire book of Acts here). What do many of us do, though? The opposite. We take a look at the world, analyze its thought through rigorous analysis (a great thing to do, and a focus of this blog), identify its proponents and cultural effect, and then run the opposite direction, seeking out Christians as we go to join up with us and avoid the lost around us, save for scattered forays in which we briefly ambush the lost and then scamper away.

Joe Carter's piece is great, because it calls us to realize that most of us are very far away from the biblical model of evangelism. We love the lost, but only in our prayers; we don't want to be around lost people, unlike our Savior; we allow a combination of fear and apathy to drive our lives, not a sense of God's magnificent love and transcendent power. We should change this situation. We should emerge from our ghettos. We should emulate the Savior. We should talk to fellow members of our local churches, strategize about evangelistic friendships, and then go out. We should construct churches by God's Spirit that are richly biblical and God-glorifying, but that do not make it intensely difficult for good Christian people to free up their calendar to evangelize the lost. We should train our people in biblical evangelism, saturate them in a sense of God's power, and fill them with love and concern that takes shape not in separation, but in witness--clear, compassionate, gospel-driven, friend-making, witness.

Contemplate Heaven with Me for a Minute: Edward's "Heaven Is a World of Love", Pt. 1

This sermon is an absolute masterpiece. Unfortunately, most Christians have not and never will encounter it. I encourage you to read this section and to check out the sermon. You'll see why if you read it.

The Reality of God’s Unending Love for His People--"As the saints will love God with an inconceivable ardency of heart, and to the utmost of their capacity, so they will know that he has loved them from all eternity, and still loves them, and will continue to love them forever. And God will then gloriously manifest himself to them, and they shall know that all that happiness and glory which they are possessed of, are the fruits of his love. And with the same ardor and fervency will the saints love the Lord Jesus Christ; and their love will be accepted; and they shall know that he has loved them with a faithful, yea, even with a dying love. They shall then be more sensible than now they are, what great love it manifested in Christ that he should lay down his life for them; and then will Christ open to their view the great fountain of love in his heart for them, beyond all that they ever saw before. Hereby the love of the saints to God and Christ is seen to he reciprocated, and that declaration fulfilled, "I love them that love me;" and though the love of God to them cannot properly be called the return of love, because he loved them first, yet the sight of his love will, on that very account, the more fill them with joy and admiration, and love to him."

--From "Heaven Is a World of Love," The Sermons of Jonathan Edwards

I recently taught on this at a local church in the Chicago area and was absolutely transported by Edwards's words. The central point of this passage is that God's love in heaven is something like a rushing force that unstoppably flows into the hearts and souls of His people. Like a sea churning with fury, God's love pours into the hearts of His people such that they are so full, so satiated with God's love, that there is no room for any other emotion or feeling. I do not know, of course, is this is the way heaven is, exactly, but I do commend Edwards for taking a stab at comprehending the reality of an uninhibited divine love. How often do you and I honestly stop to consider what it is like to experience the rushing, surging, overwhelming force of God's love as mediated through Christ in heaven? How much do we struggle to sense flickers of Christ's love while on earth, so cold and sinful are our hearts? Heaven, I am confident, will be very different, and whether it is just like Edwards pictures it in this sermon or not, it is clear from the biblical text that Christians have a great rushing sea of love in which to swim in the next life. Edwards lifts our gazes to think about this coming reality, and it will be worth reflecting on these next few days in order that we might train ourselves to allow our doctrine of heaven to transcend mere abstraction, mere intellectual exercise, and to warm our hearts as the Bible so clearly intends it to.

The Sad Tale Of Eliot Spitzer, and What it Tells Us (and What it Doesn't)

Eliot Spitzer, the governor of New York, has resigned after it became public that he had hired prostitutes through a "high-end clientele" business. The story is sordid, and very sad for the people whom Mr. Spitzer has let down. This would include, significantly, his wife, and, not insignificantly, the state of New York.

In looking at web coverage of this event, I came across this article in the LA Times by an evolutionary biologist. David Barash argues in "Want a Man, or a Worm?" that it is natural for males of many species to copulate with a wide variety of females from their species. Barash notes that among men who seek a number of female sex partners that "Even if, thanks to birth control technology, they do not actually reproduce as a result (and thus enhance their evolutionary "fitness"), they are responding to the biological pressures that whisper within men." This is a good point. If one looks through most any type of human history, biblical or otherwise, one sees that men often seek out a number of women for sex. Speaking rather broadly, many men have struggled greatly to confine their sexual drive to one woman, particularly men in positions of power like Mr. Spitzer.

Here's the fascinating thing about Barash's opinion piece, though. Right after acknowledging this historically proven situation, he says the following: "That doesn't justify adultery, by either sex, especially because human beings -- even those burdened by a Y chromosome and suffering from testosterone poisoning -- are presumed capable of exercising control over their impulses. Especially if, via wedding vows, they have promised to do so. After all, "doing what comes naturally" is what nonhuman animals do. People, most of us like to think, have the unique capacity to act contrary to their biologically given inclinations. Maybe, in fact, it is what makes us human." One wonders why the evolutionary biologist--who has just taken numerous paragraphs to explain polygamous mammalian sexual behavior as entirely natural--suddenly becomes a moralist, and attempts to convince the reader that the natural orientation of men (to avoid monogamy) "doesn't justify adultery". Barash has offered us no moral framework, no higher, transcendent cause or reason by which he could justify his judgement that adultery is wrong. If biology explains all, then all that we have an "is", an explanation for what goes on in the world, but we have no "ought", for biology in itself cannot bequeath us morality, let alone the spirituality that would birth a moral standard. No, if we explain life in materialistic terms, then we live it, ethically, in materialistic terms, and adultery cannot be judged wrong, and Eliot Spitzer cannot be looked upon in a negative light. Yet this is exactly what even the most learned among us do, and so show us, time and again, that the Christian worldview alone gives us a comprehensive, logical understanding of man and man's world.

Christian men are reminded by this sad event to seek self-control, or, perhaps, Spirit-control of self. It is no accident that men have sought polygamous relationships throughout history and that men seem far more often than women to destroy marriages and homes through extramarital affairs. This is not to say that women do not ever fall in such ways, or that all women possess less reproductive drive than men, but it is to say that a quick historical scan yields that men are much more likely to stray than women are. We can acknowledge, then, that there are significant "biological pressures that whisper within men", as Barash argues. We go beyond this, however, to say that adultery involves not merely biology but spirituality. Indeed, it is our sinful nature, our errant spirituality, that drives our biology. Adam would not have cheated on Eve prior to the fall. His biology operated at a cool "faithful" then then. His fall, though, shot that temperature up to "hungry", and won him a sinful nature, and a part of this sinful nature is the drive to commit the horrible, tragedy-inducing sin of adultery. Biology matters, yes, but so too does spirituality.

Men have been attempting to control themselves (to follow Barash's moral guidance) for millenia, and we can all see where that's gotten us. No, we must have the Holy Spirit living inside of us, willing us away from Internet ads and tv shows and stray glances at the mall and extended consideration and appraisal of other men's spouses and meditation on past objects of lust and spending time alone with women who are not our spouses and so much more. We must have the Spirit, men, and we must strive for holiness, both personally and in the embrace of the local church. It is a difficult thing to be a monogamous man, armed with a sinful nature and existing in a sex-saturated world, but we can resist temptation. We've got to fight for holiness, we've got to prize Christ and find our joy in obeying Him and turning away from the world, and we've got to celebrate marriage and cultivate happy, romantic marriages. Only then will we avoid Mr. Spitzer's mistake; only then will we avoid his tragedy.

Reflecting on the Turbulent, Sad, and Triumphant Life of Pete Maravich

Mark Kriegel's Pistol came out in 2007 and tells the fascinating and tragic story of the basketball player known as "Pistol" Pete Maravich (1947-1988). I highly recommend it to most anyone who likes reading, and to those who like biographies, and to those who like sports, and to those who like good writing. This is a sizeable group of would-be readers, I know, but it's justifiably sizeable. Kriegel is a solid historian, a talented storyteller, and has good insight into the human condition. His worldview and mine differ, and his characterizations of people lean far too heavily on psychology for my taste, but though I possess a fundamentally different understanding of the causes and the solution of Maravich's sad life, I commend him for what is an excellent, if heartbreaking, biography.

This is not a conventional review but a reflection on the book. In general, the story of the Pistol is one of excess and, resultingly, sadness and pain. In short, Pete and his father were obsessed with basketball. This obsession created a person of extremes: the Pistol's obsession with the game made him perhaps the most talented basketball player ever, and yet his obsession destroyed him, emptied him, left him without any greater meaning or purpose in his life. To read his story is to see a real-life Faustus in action. He makes his bargain with the basketball gods, and they make him wildly talented, and yet they demand his soul in exchange, leaving him a shell of a person. It is hard, bitterly hard, to watch this unfold, particularly as a Christian. One aches for Pete, yearns for his domineering, driven father, Press Maravich, to bring balance into Pete's life, but this never happens. Press raised Pete to be the first million dollar basketball player and, incredibly, he was. He drilled him and trained him and immersed him in basketball until the boy could not miss--and could not be happy.

Pistol is thus not simply the biography of Pete, it is the story of Press, a man driven by a challenging background to succeed at any cost. He did succeed--his son clearly thrilled him, and many others--but the spectacular height of the success was matched squarely by his failure as a father to train his son in what truly matters. The father laid his Isaac on the altar, but there was none there to stay his hand, none to catch him from driving his son into depression, drugs, drinking, decadence, and an early death. This is a story of fathers and sons that has been told many times in human history, and will be told many times more to come.

Pete's life ends on a happy note. He becomes a Christian and, in turn, something of an evangelist. His transformation was genuine, and he became an adoring father, a good husband, a dutiful son, a passionate witness for Christ. This period of light in Pete's life is brief, sadly, because only a few years after God saves Pete, he dies in 1988. Playing basketball with, of all people, Dr. James Dobson, Pete collapses and dies on the spot. He left behind two young sons who worshipped the ground he walked on and who have never really found their way. Kriegel tells their story as well, and it is clear that the loss of their loving father left the boys as lost as Pete himself once was. Pete's life, then, truly is a mix of pain and beauty, though both are magnified in an unusual way. The beauty he created--even if you don't like basketball, watch this video, and hold onto your jaw--was breathtaking, and the wake of pain he experienced and created was similarly significant. Pistol Pete was a mystery, a paradox, and he will remain enigmatic, a comet who flashed brightly and landed hard.

If you're a man who likes sports, or a dad (or mom) who has children who love sports, read this book. It has lessons that you will quickly pick up, though of course Kriegel does not write in a moralistic way. Or, if you're a Christian who struggles to restrain your passions for earthly things, whatever they may be, read this book. You will profit from seeing the logical outcome of pursuing earthly things too hard. I did. As a boy, I was influenced by the Pistol, and came to love basketball too much. I still struggle to keep my passion for the game in check, though I have all the right answers in my mind--don't obsess over earthly things, it's just a game, play for joy and fun and, when possible, evangelism--but I don't always put those answers into play. I am a man, and I have clay feet, and though I am redeemed by the grace of God, I still struggle to keep my passions in perspective.

I suppose that many of us are like this, in one way or another, and that we struggle to keep certain impulses and interests in balance. Though we do struggle, we must not misread the presence of struggle as a justification for defeat. We've got to struggle on, to keep fighting, to pray hard, stay accountable, and seek holiness. Most of all, we've got to focus on Christ, the One who was, like the Pistol, a man of great paradox. This man, though, did not wrestle with sin. He had none. No, He was paradoxical because, though He was omnipotent, He became a man. Though He was a lion, He became a lamb. Though He deserved no death, He died, in order that you, and me, and Pete, and millions upon millions of other people could escape the sins that would drive us far from God's hand into a place of uncountable sorrow. This is a paradox that, unlike the Pistol, does not leave us with sadness. It leaves us with joy--and it promises to transform us, and make us triumphant, even as Pete now has won the victory, and lost his earthly chains.

Daniel Day-Lewis, Oliver Twist, and the Mysterious Spectacle of Acting

A recent interview with Irish actor Daniel Day-Lewis in London's Telegraph Magazine prompted some reflection on the nature of acting.

"Because of his commitment to a character, he has a very difficult time disengaging from a part. 'There's a terrible sadness,' he told me. 'The last day of shooting is surreal. Your mind, your body, your spirit are not prepared to accept that this experience is coming to an end. You've devoted so much of your time to unleashing, in an unconscious way, some sort of spiritual turmoil, and even if it's uncomfortable, no part of you wishes to leave that character behind. The sense of bereavement is such that it can take years before you can put it to rest.'"

I recently watched the masterpiece "There Will Be Blood" and loved it. The film showcases Day-Lewis's performance and reveals the actor to be probably the finest of his time. Acting is something of a mystery, a mysterious spectacle, and Day-Lewis is the embodiment of this enigma. Though he often struggles to get out exactly what it is that allows him to power through his performances, the above quotation explains a bit of his magic. For Day-Lewis, acting is a spiritual exercise, an attempt to find the soul of the character he is charged with portraying. No mere act of mirroring, acting for Day-Lewis signifies an assumption of the personality of another. It is for this reason that his performances draw your eyes like a burning sun.

My wife recently endured (well, I think she actually enjoyed it) a round of Day-Lewis films due to a slightly obsessive desire on my part to watch the actor portray other characters. My favorite film of the few we've watched was the 1997 drama "The Boxer", a tale of tragic love set against the backdrop of bloody 1990s Ireland. Don't watch the film if you want lots of fireworks and crazy plot twists. The film itself is moving and well-made, but the thing to watch is Day-Lewis's portrayal of a once-imprisoned boxer who seeks not vengeance but peace in the midst of a hometown torn apart by feuds between the Protestants and Catholics. The actor glides quietly through scenes washed in dark colors and carves out a man who is simultaneously capable of ferocity in the ring and tenderness with the street children he trains in his boxing club. One is moved not so much by swelling music or emotional outbursts but by Day-Lewis's profound humanity. In a town where men recruit boys to blow other men up, "Danny" devotes his life to living for others, to helping those around him in a self-sacrificial way. His character is nuanced, emotionally etched as if with the finest of brushes, and awes the viewer for the good he is able to accomplish by his gentle but stubborn will. In a world where so many men are worthy only of epithets, Danny's goodness considered as a whole puts tears in one's eyes. I've rarely been motivated to live more for the Lord by an invented person, but I was by this character as played flawlessly by Day-Lewis.

I remember playing the character Oliver Twist many years ago, back when I was the world's smallest eighth-grader. I have no illusions that I burrowed deeply into that character, though I can still make my mother and sister cry by singing "Where Is Love?". That useful talent aside, there is something in me that yearns to emulate Day-Lewis in disappearing into a character and bringing it to life. I don't think that I ever will, and I'm not sure that I ever could, but perhaps some out there understand this desire to probe the magic of drama. Is there not something almost unearthly about playing another person? I recall my limited drama experience with great happiness, and I suppose I'll carry a bit of a sadness with me until the end due to my inability to act. We all carry bits of sadness with us, I suppose, and that's one of mine.

But I can't stay melancholy for long, much as my current musical accompaniment (the Cranberries' "Empty", chosen in honor of Day-Lewis) seeks to do. It is a joy that though I do not now act, others do, others of great talent and insight. Perhaps more than this, though, this brief reflection on this "mysterious spectacle" that we call acting takes us to something beyond, something higher, something quite magical and mysterious, but something also real. One recalls a performance that involved the assumption of another nature, but this assumption was no fictional exercise, but one of authentic reality. Jesus Christ took on flesh and entered into a drama of positively cosmic proportions. The drama's climax, the death of the God-man, does not merely move us by its example. No, it has changed we who love Christ to our very core. Never was anything so real, so transformingly real, as this act. Held up against this figure, all our acting appears as vanity, for what is it that we strive for in our acting but the assumption of a second personality and the transformation of our audience? Daniel Day-Lewis may move us, but in Jesus Christ, we have found a performer, a dramatic figure, whose very real crucifixion has not simply touched us, or awed us, but has made us nothing less than a new creation. That, friends, is a mysterious spectacle we cannot quite comprehend, a genuine performance we cannot ever reproduce.

One of the Most Helpful Posts on Guidance I've Read: Dever on Subjectivism

Update on 2/21/08: Apparently I linked to the wrong blog yesterday. Thankfully, Mark Dever caught my error and corrected it, as you can see in the comments. I'm pretty sure that this is the first time he's ever seen this blog, so I'll have to err more often.

I came across a very helpful little piece on guidance today. It's by Mark Dever and it can be found at the Together for the Gospel blog." (HT: Justin Taylor) The post is titled "The Bondage of "Guidance" and it is well worth the five minutes it takes to read it. Here's a helpful excerpt from it:

"I do believe that God's Spirit will sometimes lead us subjectively. So, for instance, I am choosing to spend my life here on Capitol Hill because my wife & I sensed in 1993 that that is what God wanted us to do. However, I realized then (and now) that I could be wrong about that supposition. Scripture is NEVER wrong. I was free in 1993 to stay in England, or teach at a seminary, either of which would have been delightful opportunities. I understand that I was free to make those choices. But I chose, consulting Scripture, friends, wisdom, and my own subjective sense of the Lord's will, to come to DC. And even if I were wrong about that, I had (and have) that freedom in Christ to act in a way that is not sin. And I understand my pastoring here not to be sin. So I am free. Regardless of the sense of leading I had."

And here's another:

"A subjective sense of leading--when we've asked for it (as in James 1:5 we ask for wisdom) and when God freely gives it--is wonderful. The desire for such a subjective sense of leading, however, is too often, in contemporary evangelical piety, binding our brothers and sisters in Christ, paralyzing them from enjoying the good choices that God may provide, and causing them to wait wrongly before acting."

This is great stuff. I've encountered a good many Christians who are genuinely confused about this question. In fact, I've been one of those Christians (and still am, sometimes). Those of us who tie ourselves up in knots over the issue of discovering God's will go beyond the Scripture, I think. That is to say, the Bible does not expect us, I think, to perfectly know God's will for every decision we make in our lives. It is no bad desire to want such leading--in fact, I think it shows a healthy respect for the sovereign will of God as applied to our lives--but the Bible does not prescribe any sort of process by which we may automatically discern what it is that God wants for us. We are to pray, clearly, and we are to take counsel, and search the Word, and use wisdom conformed to biblical thought patterns, but beyond these things, as Dever writes, we are free to make what we believe to be the godly choice. This is a strange concept for some of us, this idea of freedom, but we must remember that this is a gift that Christ has graciously given to us. We must remind ourselves of the scriptural truth that the blood of Christ has not subjected to us a decisional bondage, but liberated us to live freely and joyfully under the reign of Christ. Hopefully, we'll be able to remember this truth as we live, and so free ourselves from a paralysis of will that, however well-intended, ultimately loses sight of the Christ-given gift of freedom.

The Week-est Link, February 15, 2008

1. Karis Community Church recently hosted New Testament scholar Tom Schreiner for a series of lectures on Jesus. Check out this link to listen to the talks. They sound quite interesting and personally profitable. Dr. Schreiner is a man of great gifting and great humility. It's rare to find those qualities mutually existing in one person, but they do in him.

2. Newsweek Magazine recently profiled Manhattan pastor and church planting guru Tim Keller. Go here to read the article. The author gets a number of things wrong, but it's interesting that this piece represents a pretty respectful portrayal of an evangelical. Keller's thoughtfulness and humility have sowed good seed in New York.

3. Criswell College radio host Jerry Johnson recently discussed my friend Greg Gilbert's recent 9Marks blog/manifesto on an overemphasis on good music in the current among many evangelicals. Here's the link. I would have liked to hear Greg say a few more words about the importance of evangelical pursuit of good music, but I think he makes some very good points in his original post on the 9Marks blog. It's important in correcting things, though, that we take care not to over-correct. Greg wouldn't want to do that, and neither would I.

4. Speaking of good music, here's a great track by one of my favorite bands, Postal Service, called "Clark Gable." It's a beautiful mix of male and female voices, and it has a melancholy feel that is accentuated by the driving beat. Good tune.

Have a very nice weekend, all.

Things Christians Overlook: The Ministry of the Spirit in the Believer's Life is Powerful

This series attempts to touch very briefly on a few things that many Christians overlook in their daily lives. All of these things are points that I have overlooked in my own life. This is not intended to be a nasty series, a virtual poke in the eyes, but is meant to pass along a few things others have taught me that I have found helpful.

Today we look very quickly at the power of the Holy Spirit in the life of Jesus and the believer. We sometimes think that Jesus accomplished the various miracles of His ministry in His own strength. But this is not what the Bible teaches. The ministry of Christ was Spirit-powered.

John 1:32-33 Then John gave this testimony: "I saw the Spirit come down from heaven as a dove and remain on him. I would not have known him, except that the one who sent me to baptize with water told me, 'The man on whom you see the Spirit come down and remain is he who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.'

This text shows us that Jesus received the Spirit at the beginning of His earthly ministry. In fact, it was the Spirit's descent that marked the beginning of Christ's work as Lord and Savior. From this point forward, Christ accomplished all that He did through the power of the Spirit. Note that I'm not saying that it was not possible for Christ to do all His work in His own power; rather, He chose to lay His power down in order that the power of the Spirit would be manifest in Him. This is a key distinction, and a subtle one, and the subtlety makes all the difference.

Why is this significant beyond mere theological quibbling? As my father-in-law, Dr. Bruce Ware, explained in introducing me and others to this foundational idea, it shows us that in possessing the same Spirit that Christ did, we have access to the same power that Christ did. This is a dynamic truth, a life-changing truth. Do you see it? You do not live your life through a kind of vague divinity that occasionally trickles down from on high. No, you live your life as a Christian through access to the same Spirit who enabled Christ to raise men from the dead, heal the sick, walk on the waters. You do not have access to a trickle--you have access to a flood of spiritual power that will enable you to walk in godliness and truth all your days, and to be a channel of blessing to all who surround you in your daily life. As you carry the gospel to the lost, as you carry out your daily responsibilities, as you fight for holiness each hour of the day, you can call upon the Father to move in a powerful way in your life through the Holy Spirit. This is a prayer that God will answer. He will take joy in your recognition of the power of the Holy Spirit, and just as He did for Christ, He will move in your life in marvelous ways to bring His will and plan to pass in your life. Clearly, this is a truth we need to recognize. Have you realized that you don't have to live in your own strength as a Christian? Are you calling on God to work in you through the Spirit? Or are you out there fighting your own battles, waging your own wars, struggling to grow in godliness and live a gospel-centered life?

If so, read the gospel of John, observe how John highlights the Spirit's work in Christ's life, and claim this same Spirit dynamism in your own life. This is one matter we cannot afford to overlook.

Further reading: Bruce Ware, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Crossway, 2005.

Things Christians Overlook: The Bible Has a Thesis (Hint: Christ)

I want to do a brief series on some key biblical things that I and other Christians have overlooked and do overlook. Today's topic is on a pretty simple but incredibly under-recognized idea, that the Bible has a thesis, and that this thesis is Jesus Christ.

I have talked about this before on this blog, and I'm sure I'll talk about it again, because it is incredibly important. I think that many Christians of the past century were taught to read the Bible rather flatly. That is, there is no peak in the canon which all preceding materials foretells and all following material explores. But there is such a peak: it is none other than Jesus Christ.

Luke 24:27 And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.

Luke 24:44-46"These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled." Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead...

John 1:45 Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph."

John 5:39 You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that bear witness about me...

These are some of the texts that point us to find the Bible's thesis in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Preachers are not being fanciful when they attempt to connect their sermon text to the person and work of Jesus Christ; they are being faithful. One can pick up a book of Scripture and read it in its context and take away lots of important information and context and content. This is, in fact, how many Christians read the Bible. They read a given text--say, Esther--and they come away encouraged by it, understanding more of God and man and how the two interact and what ancient Judaism looked like and how God triumphs over evil and things like this. Let me be clear: these are immensely important things. However, this Christian is missing the Bible's thesis, the richness of a thesis-driven reading of Scripture, and is in some way disobeying Christ and His explicit command to read the Bible in terms of a theological argument. I once read the Bible in this way, and though I am sure that I and others who did (and do) are not seeking to disobey Christ's direct teaching, it is clear that we are.

This post is not okaying any and all interpretations of Scripture so long as they purport to point to Christ (as if I can okay anything). No. We must be responsible Christocentricists. We can acknowledge that some texts foreshadow and disclose Christ's coming and work more clearly and fully than others. We can at times confess, both to ourselves and to our congregations, that the Christocentric connection is rather abstract due to a lack of clarity on our part (thus emphasizing our exegetical weakness and the Bible's mystery more than its lack of anything). With these caveats stated, whether you are a preacher or a politician, a teacher or a tradesman, a homemaker or a teenager, you are called to read the Bible as if it has a thesis, namely, the person and work of Jesus Christ. The Old Testament foreshadows Christ, the New Testament discloses His person and work in fullness (see the above texts). Thus, every text of the Bible in some way relates to the gospel of Christ, and every Christian must learn to the read the Bible with this rich, invigorating, glorious thesis. God in His wisdom wrote the Bible through men, and He did so with a distinct thesis in mind: He wrote the Scripture to tell of Himself, to illuminate the character of men, to record a history of His dealings with men, and most significantly, to point to Christ and His work as the center, the apex, the pinnacle, of the Word.

Let us read the Scripture accordingly--not as a book of sixty-six fascinating but loosely connected books, but as a collection of diverse authors and subjects who nonetheless speak a single central theme: the glory of God as revealed in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Let us not ignore this matter; if we do so, after all, we're not disobeying a bunch of fanciful theologians who comment on the Bible. No, we're disobeying Christ, the One who wrote it.

Further reading: Dennis Johnson, Him We Proclaim: Proclaiming Christ from All of Scripture, P & R, 2007.

"There Will Be Blood" Makes Good on Its Promise, and Startles in its Depiction of Evil Manhood

Some of you who read this blog will know that I do not style myself a reviewer of movies. I do not have the credentials to do so, and I seek to avoid presenting myself as an expert regarding things for which I have no credentials or training. However, I do think it useful and fun to study cinema, as cinema is one of the primary ways our culture thinks about itself and its world. Movies are not just about entertaining--they are ways in which the culture tells its story, represents and thinks about itself, and thus it is worthy to think about them.

I will not attempt, then, to exhaustively review the film and its details but will instead make a few notes about things that interested me about There Will Be Blood. Made by Paul Thomas Anderson, a director of talent and varied focus, the film is, well, startling. It is directed with a bold hand, and it makes a strong impact on the viewer. It contains some objectionable content and is in itself disturbing, and thus some Christians will not wish to view it, and that is fine--we all have different levels of tolerance and stomach for negative content. The film, in my humble estimation, is primarily about men. This will surprise no one, as I'm constantly looking to discover how the culture thinks about gender, but I think I'm right here. The film is a study of manhood as it relates to temptation. The plot follows an oil prospector named Daniel Plainview (played by Daniel Day-Lewis) who comes to a small Texas town and attempts to build his own impenetrable oil empire. Along the way, he runs up against a fervent country preacher named Eli Sunday (the name smacks of Billy Sunday; the actor is Paul Dano) who wishes to reap some of the oil money for himself and his congregation. The story also involves Plainview's adopted son H.W., who wrestles as he grows up with an obviously difficult father and the life this father gives him. I won't reveal much about the plot, but suffice it to say that it provides a platform by which to watch the strong personalities of the prospector and the preacher clash and display much ugliness.

The manhood evident in the film is raw and unadorned. Plainview is a hard, sharp-edged, calculating man--the only trait that occasionally supercedes his calculation is his explosive temper. This is a man who lives to compete and to win. He loads the odds against himself and then finds his greatest life pleasure in taking those odds on headfirst and defeating them. He shows flashes of humanity, most often toward his son, but in watching Plainview, we are watching a man consumed by himself and his lust for money. He is the antitype to the model of manhood set out by Christ. Christ was unfailingly others-centered; Plainview is unfailingly self-centered. A man at his best is a man living for the gospel-focused good of others--family, church, society, broader world. A man at his worst is a man living for the good of himself--his pockets, his reputation, his selfish dreams. A Christ-following man lives with an open hand, for he has been freed by the gospel to live generously and joyfully for the benefit of others. God smiles upon him, and he may smile upon others, and so he does, and all around bask in his goodness and kindness. A self-centered man lives with a clenched fist, his selfish interests running like slippery thread between his fingers. He is so consumed by himself that he cannot live for others; he is so driven by his own interests that he cannot even glimpse those borne by the people around him. Plainview shows very brief snatches of caring for others, but his masculinity, his psyche, is so dominated by himself that such snatches are quickly drowned out by a flood of selfish action or vicious anger directed at his competitors, whether real or imagined. As we watch this man play his depravity, we recoil, even as we study his character in all its complexity. Somehow, Day-Lewis manages to avoid an unnuanced character. He plays Plainview with such depth and subtlety that the word "masterful" does not suffice. When Day-Lewis discovers a great character, he burrows into it, until we cannot be sure if we are watching an actor or a man. Somehow, Plainview is both ogre and man, repulsive and endearing. This is the mark of great acting, and represents sinful humanity in its unredeemed essence.

Eli, for his part, cares not so much for his church as he cares for his reputation as a well-financed preacher. Eli wants to be around money, wishes desperately to distance himself from impoverished ministry, and so is willing to go to great lengths to do so. Eli's character is interpreted and played rather harshly by Paul Dano, a strange and somehow affecting actor. Nonetheless, there is something for us to pick up from Sunday's character. Do we crave cultural respectability and--forget the other urges--money so much that we sell our soul and our families and churches up the river? Do we lust after the world's things so much that we forget that we have every treasure already in Christ? Eli Sunday does, and as a result, we are presented with a man who lives for himself just as Plainview does, although Sunday's greed is disguised and covered up with showy piety where Plainview's is naked and plainly malevolent. In the end, we're not sure who to like more. I think I ended up liking Plainview more, which tells us something about how much damage a false godliness can do.

Paul Thomas Anderson often explores themes of manhood and fatherhood, and he does so eloquently here, though his is a rough eloquence. His characters are unvarnished, his relationships unpretty, his view of life rough and tumble. There Will Be Blood is beautifully shot, well-paced (and long, which allows for character and plot development), and ultimately quite revealing about the hearts of men. We are strange and powerful creatures, us men. We are capable of such good, as seen magnificently in the person of Christ, and we are capable of almost limitless evil. In the end, it is Plainview's malevolence that most sticks with us. Though no Christian, Anderson understands that men are naturally evil, and his film plays out the evil self-centredness of one man. We are left repulsed, fascinated, and startled by what Plainview is able to do. Armed with masculine energy, ambition, and strength, he is able to do incredible things, to in effect attack the ground and wrest its fruit for himself. This is a triumph of masculine agency, and it is not evil in itself. And yet even as we affirm Plainview's sense of masculine agency, at his strong hand, we recoil at his consuming greed, his tight-fisted grasp on all he has. We walk out of the theater startled by what man can do with his wit and his hands, and frightened by what he can do with his heart. We leave the theater thankful that though the world is filled with real-life Plainviews, flesh-and-blood men who live for themselves and wreak havoc upon their world, it is ruled by a Man who so lived for others that He bought them back from damnation by the very blood of His veins. That is a startling reality indeed.

Last Day in the Office: Reflections on Working for Dr. Mohler

For the last three and a half years, I have worked on campus at Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY. For the last two and a half years, I have worked in the President's Office, and a year and a half of that time has been devoted to research for an upcoming book on Christian manhood. Today is my last day in the office. It has been a privilege to work for Dr. Al Mohler. My day in and day out work involved lots of reading, compiling of outlines and quotations, and attending the radio show. I have thoroughly enjoyed the experience, and I have learned a great deal from him. I have not written much about my experience on my blog, as I have not wanted to appear (or be) proud, and I have not wished to be seen as obsequious or slavish, two traits I personally abhor. Now that I am leaving Louisville, however, it is appropriate to speak publicly about Dr. Mohler in an effort to share what I have learned from him and to honor him as a mentor in the faith.

Dr. Mohler has taught me the importance of thinking theologically about all of life. Carrying on in the vein of men like Francis Schaeffer and Carl Henry, Dr. Mohler thinks theologically about everything. There is nothing that I know of that he does not view through his theological lenses. He even talks about his dog in theological terms. I've heard him recount on a number of times his thoughts on "Baxter the beagle," and each time he illustrates the uniqueness of humanity in comparison to animals (though he never fails to state his love for his dog). Dr. Mohler has, fundamentally, a curiosity about anything and everything. He reads and researches tirelessly and thus is equipped to instruct on a great many topics of interest. In working under him, I have acquired a similar drive to learn and to think in biblical terms about everything. Too many of us see spiritual things in spiritual terms and everything else in earthly terms. Dr. Mohler has taught me to think of all things in spiritual terms, and my life is all the richer for it.

Dr. Mohler has taught me the importance of gender as it relates to the Christian life. Many Christians think about Christianity from a sexless standpoint--that is, every text applies in the same way to all people, regardless of gender. I have learned from Dr. Mohler that gender (sex) is the fundamental reality of life. There is nothing more basic to our earthly existence than gender. Our bodies are determined by it, and, importantly, so are our spiritual lives and daily existences. Dr. Mohler has passed on to me and many others the importance of emphasizing gender and fulfilling the roles given to each sex. He has encouraged me a great deal in the quest each man faces to identify and define his manhood, and has given me ideological and theological markers by which to understand manhood--marriage, the cultivation of a family, the performance of God-glorifying work, meaningful contribution to society in a variety of ways. Many Christians touch on these ideas, but Dr. Mohler has helped me to see that the Bible makes much of such things, and that we should do the same in attempting to fulfill our individual, gender-based discipleship under Christ in the context of a corporate body.

Dr. Mohler has taught me the value of hard work driven by a vision for life and a belief in truth. If you spend much time around him, you know that a wasted moment and Dr. Mohler rarely meet. He has a relentlessness about him, a desire to take intellectual and spiritual dominion over all that he can. This is a biblical desire, even if it can be difficult for Dr. Mohler (and for all of us) to balance at times. Though we all fall short in many ways, I have been profoundly challenged by Dr. Mohler to avoid a passive, weak-willed, lazy existence. When one sees a man working hard and enjoying it, one is driven to do the same thing and to rebel against a culture that glorifies laziness and masculine weakness. Dr. Mohler is a strong man, a man of oak, and I desire to emulate him in living hard and well for the glory of God. He is a courageous man, a man who stands for what he believes, and he has taught me the importance of contending for the faith in a fallen world. Dr. Mohler is not ashamed to speak up for his cause, and he does not shrink back from conflict when it is necessary. He is not in such a hurry to make friends that he compromises the faith, though I also know that he often makes friends of his enemies, though he and they disagree to the point of bitterness. Watching him remain personally warm to those who disagree with him has helped me to see that burning bridges is not a necessary part of contending for truth. I hope for myself and many young men that we will practice this in our own lives.

In the midst of a busy life, Dr. Mohler finds time to show kindness to people. Thus I have learned from him that a Christian, whether a pastor or lawyer or homemaker or farmer, must always prize people. The point of our existence is not to make a name for ourselves. We are to love God and our neighbor. Too often we minimize the first, forget the second, and substitute in a third--"love oneself above all else." I can remember Dr. Mohler calling me from vacation to tell me the day before my wedding that he was proud of me and praying for me. I will remember that for a long time. I learned from that act that even a small gesture has the power to deeply affect another person. There have been other acts of similar kindness, and I will remember them as well. For example, it has been a great encouragement to observe Dr. Mohler handle callers of all abilities and backgrounds on his radio show. He is unfailingly kind to callers, and I have listened many times as he has led a timid caller through the paces and helped them to articulate their thoughts. He does not embarrass his listeners, and he easily could. That means a great deal. More than this, he loves his wife and family a great deal, and I have been impacted by his concern for them. He truly honors and ennobles his wife and clearly holds her in great esteem. It is right that he do so, but many men do not. I want to be a man like this, who strengthens and dignifies those around him, leaving them desirous of honoring him in all situations. Loyalty can be blind, but it can also be won out of a history of godliness and kindness, as it is in my case and many others with Dr. Mohler.

I have picked up a great deal from Dr. Mohler and could write much more about my brief time with him. I could mention, for example, his quick wit, his courtesy to guests, his love for students, his courage, his ability to take a joke and poke fun at himself, and his boyishness. Perhaps there will be a day when I can write more. I hope it will come. Dr. Mohler is not a perfect man, and I have seen his weaknesses as well as his strengths. He can drive himself quite hard, he must balance his accomplishments with the need to be humble, and he can get a bit testy at times. I've seen him scorch an intern a time or two, though, of course, I was never in such a position (ahem). In the end, Dr. Mohler is a man just like anyone else. He is gifted, he is godly, he is a sinner, he is redeemed by the blood of Christ. This last point is, as it is for all Christians, the central fact of his existence. Being around a man of such focus has caused my time at Southern to be one of great learning, change, and growth. I count Dr. Mohler as the chief catalyst in these things. For his kindness, his investment in me, his continual exhortation and instruction, I am thankful to God.

It all wraps up now. My desk is cleared, my goodbyes are said, and I'm just about to begin a new season of life and ministry. I will really miss Donna, Wendy, and Tricia, the office "ladies," the office head, Jason Allen, and my good friends Tyler Wittman, Drew Dixon, and Matt Crawford, a man I respect and trust. I am very sorry to part ways with Greg Gilbert and Matt Hall, my fellow history devotees. I have been blessed to share friendship with these men and have learned a great deal from them both. Greg has been something of an older brother to me and has a great many talents to steward and Matt is a good friend and a future historian of renown. In sum, it is hard to leave work and a work environment that one loves. I have seen firsthand in this job how work that is close to one's heart need not be dreary or dreaded; instead, it may be a source of great blessing, an opportunity to use gifts and share fellowship in the service of Christ and the advancement of His kingdom. I will really miss this office and these people. It has been a sweet season indeed. As I go, I trust that I will honor the friendship of these people, Dr. Mohler's investment in me these last few years, and far more importantly, the Savior who died for His church to save it and bring it into a place of unending worship, where all that one leaves behind is sin, sickness, pain, and the sadness of parting with those one loves.

The Goof on the Roof, and the State of Contemporary Masculinity

I was reading the Sunday edition of the Louisville Courier-Journal when I came across this news nugget in the sports pages (I googled it to find out more). Apparently, some guy in Baltimore (he doesn't deserve to be named here) camped out on the roof of a Baltimore bar as a publicity stunt until the Ravens, the city's football team, either broke their nine-game losing streak or fired their head coach. The stunt crashed when the ex-wife of the man called the police due to the man's failure to pay multiple years of child support.

So let's get this straight. This guy cares so much about the Ravens that he will sleep on the roof of a bar for weeks--in the bitter Baltimore winter--but he can't rouse himself over a multiple-year period to pay his child support? This is a situation for which no comment is worthy.

However, this is a blog, and I want to write, and you expect me to do so, and so I will. This little episode, I think, shows a great deal about the state of manhood in the current day. We have here a man so devoted to his sports team--his hobby--that he does not even support his child. This is an extreme situation, but does it not tell us something about men in the current day? We are so interested in games--the fixation of boys--that we neglect the things of men. This man is a particularly depressing spectacle, but he is one of many men in the current day who idolize games and pastimes and who neglect the basic duties of manhood, the responsibilities upon which love is held constant, children are cared for, and societies are built upon.

Not many Christian men will take their love of games to the extent that this man did. However, a story like this should cause men who very much enjoy sports--men like me--to take stock of the extent of their passion for games. It is not wrong to enjoy sports; sports can be a good gift to us if held in proper perspective; but we Christian men, who have families and churches and jobs, should take care that we do not allow sports to dominate our waking hours. We should make sure that our families come way before our pastimes. Most of us should probably turn the television off for a number of hours each week and dig in to the Word, play with our kids, and serve our churches. We cannot allow sports and games and hobbies to devour our lives, our homes, our families, as they do for so many men in America today. We have a family to lead, a wife to love, and a Lord, a Savior who gave His blood for a kingdom cause, to magnify.

A Young Preacher's Thoughts on Preaching: Practice Makes Better

Practice does not, as we know, make perfect, necessarily. But practice does make one better.

Preaching is no different than any other discipline in this regard. It is hard to be a young preacher. You read off your manuscript too much; you try to go off it and end up somewhere you didn't mean to go; you preach way too long and observe the congregation yawning; you go too short and leave everyone a bit shocked by your brevity. What young preacher hasn't committed these mistakes, and many more besides?

That's why it is essential that young preachers do two things: 1) get lots of practice, and 2) get lots of feedback from skilled, faithful preachers. When I refer to lots of practice, though, don't assume that I mean lots of practice preaching on Sunday mornings. You may get that, and if so, terrific. But most of us won't. My advice is to find a venue that calls for you to put together messages on a regular basis. For me, the local FCA groups have afforded me a steady stream of "preaching" opportunities. Roughly 10-15 times per semester, I'll travel to some school at 7am in the morning and speak to a bunch of youth for about 15 minutes. In these times, I try to speak off of the top of my head from a passage of Scripture while communicating the point of a given passage and the way in which the passage points to Christ. It's pretty simple, really. Having this chance to speak publicly, though the setting is of course not a Sunday morning pulpit, has nonetheless made much more comfortable when I do have real preaching opportunities.

So my advice to my fellow young preachers is this: get out there. Use some initiative and find a place to preach or speak or teach. It doesn't need to be prominent, it doesn't need to be salaried, but it does need to be regular. Solicit feedback wherever possible and assess your strengths and weaknesses as a preacher. Work hard to become an organized, winsome, engaging communicator. Then, when you have a pulpit to fill, you will have already achieved a level of polish and comfort that will serve you well. Too many of us think it's either a full-time ministry job or nothing. With your desire to advance the gospel, push yourself past malaise, past fear, and past your weaknesses to grow as a preacher of the Word of God. Practice may not make perfect, remember, but it will make better.

Sermons We Need: Tim Keller on Gospel Transformation

One of the most insightful preachers around is Manhattan's Tim Keller. Pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church, Keller specializes in communicating the gospel in a winsome, relevant, understandable, and perceptive way. The three sermons below will give you a good introduction to his preaching and to his understanding of the gospel. Don't fear--though a member of the PCA (Presbyterian Church in America) denomination, Keller does not often preach for more than 40-45 minutes.

• Smashing False Idols: Gospel Realisation (mp3)
• Smashing False Idols: Gospel Communication (mp3)
• Smashing False Idols: Gospel Incarnation (mp3)

I found these sermons at the Monergism website and wanted to pass them along to you. One of the best points Keller makes--and one that not enough Christians recognize--is that the gospel is not about looking good and being acceptable to those around us. The gospel is about personal transformation such that we worship Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord. This foundational concept is best expressed in Keller's simple gospel formulation: "I am accepted, and therefore I obey," which contradicts the formulation seemingly believed by so many professing Christians: "I obey, and therefore I am accepted." Keller's articulation of this simple but profound theological concept has changed the way I think about the gospel, and it will do the same for you if you mull it over and compare it with scriptural teaching.

We need this preaching because too many of us have grown up alternating between Christ-centered and man-centered theology. What do I mean by this? Simply this: we believe intellectually that we are saved by grace, but we live as if we were saved by works. Now, I am not an antinomian. There is a huge place in Christian doctrine for concerted effort and purposeful activity. With that said, though, too many of us deny by our lives what we know in our minds. We think that being a Christian is all about doing certain things, about avoiding the really heinous sins and doing the commonly considered righteous practices. We lose sight of the cross and the personal transformation it brings. We thus come to view our faith as an exercise in presentation. Rooted as we are in a community of Christians, we attempt to look good. Our faith has now become a matter of show, and thus our spiritual life consists of avoidance on the one hand and performance on the other.

This shift stifles true, humble, self-denying, appearance-killing Christianity. It causes parents to worry far more about how their children's lives look to other adults than they do about how God views their children's hearts. Such people are far more concerned with public relations than they are with humble orthodoxy. That is to say, where these adults might acknowledge the spiritual lostness of their children, ask others to pray for them, and work not to correct the signs of unbelief but to lovingly address the heart, they instead paste a smile on their faces, respond chirpily when asked earnestly how their family is doing, and try to pretend the problem doesn't exist. Such a lifestyle, of course, inevitably results in moments of explosive tension between parents and child, because said lost child is making the parents look bad, and this, not the child's unbelief, is somehow the worst possible scenario for these appearance-obsessed parents.

This is a very, very dangerous scenario. It is one that occurred and occurs in many Christian homes as the result of parents who are saved but who have lost sight of the true nature of sin and the power of Christ's work. For such Christians, we must offer preaching like Keller's, preaching that rightly diagnoses sin and rightly addresses it by holding out the love of Christ as contained in the cross and resurrection, a love given not to change appearances and cover flaws, but to altogether transform appearance-obsessed, sin-hungry men and women into worshipful, humble, honest followers of the Lord Jesus Christ.

With a Gun in the Face, How Do You Answer?

Yesterday I tried to give a very rough systematic outline of some questions to ask a person you know who claims to be a Christian but who gives little evidence of being converted. In thinking over my post, I thought it might be helpful to conclude this mini-series with a few gut-level questions that attempt to drill less systematically but more piercingly to the core of the matter. These are not intended to be systematic, but they are intended to call the wavering and endangered among us to consider the reality of Christianity and to count the cost.

• If a gun is pointed at your head, and you are asked whether you love and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, what would you say?
• Your family is hosting a major event on Sunday morning. Do you acquiesce and attend or do you make things awkward and fellowship with your church family?
• Do you make any attempt to feed your soul with truth? Does entertainment altogether drown out any spiritual activity on your part?
• When you look at your pastimes, hobbies, and activities, is there any distinguishable pattern of Christian commitment?
• Do you put off involvement with the church on the grounds that you're too busy right now but will do so one day?
• Who do you surround yourself with? Do you have a number of strong Christian friends who build you up in the faith? Or do you surround yourself with lost people who offer you no spiritual help and do not challenge you to grow as a Christian?
• Would you give up your favorite things for the sake of Christian growth? If necessary, would you cut out football, or a close friendship, or "recreational" shopping, or watching your favorite television show or movie?
• Do you ever, at all, make time to be with God in a devotional sense?
  
• Does your Christianity ever induce awkward moments? Do you laugh at every dirty joke that is told? Do you stand up for Christ or Christians in a public setting? Would anyone identify you as a Christian?

The more we can prompt reflection in those around us, the better the opportunity for them to consider Christ and His call. If there is nothing more important than knowing Christ as savior, there can be nothing more important than asking hard questions of those we love--and seeking, and handling well, honest answers.

"My brethren, if any among you strays from the truth and one turns him back, let him know that he who turns a sinner from the error of his way will save his soul from death and will cover a multitude of sins." (James 5:19-20)

The Duty of Every Preacher to Disclose Christ

"And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself."

I have observed a troubling phenomenon in theological circles. Many people today think that we don't need to preach how all the passages of Scripture point to the Jesus Christ, who is the center of the Bible. In preaching only the original point of a passage, we deprive God of glory and our preaching of the rich fullness it was intended to have.

Luke 24:27 is the key verse here (quoted above). The context is this: the post-resurrection Christ appears to two of His disciples, shocking them, and proceeds to teach them how all the Old Testament relates to Him. We have no record of this conversation, and thus we do not know exactly what Christ said to the two disciples. But we do know this: the Old Testament testified en masse to Jesus Christ. It was not a compilation of orthodox statements about God and God's people. It might have appeared to be this, but it was much more than this. Its various components spoke in various ways to the reality that the Messiah, Jesus Christ, the deliverer of God's people, was coming. The Old Testament authors understood little of this; but when Jesus unfolded this truth to His two disciples, He changed the entire Christian hermeneutic (interpretive scheme) in one exhilarating conversation.

This verse is sometimes called the "hermeneutical key." It teaches us an essential--absolutely necessary!--interpretation in interpreting and understanding the Bible. It all points in some way to Christ. This can be overdone, of course. We can allegorize the Scriptures and make them mean things they do not. This is one error that some of the godliest men of church history made time and time again. Yet if over-preaching Christ in the Bible is an error, so is under-preaching Christ in the Bible. It is my belief that every passage, every unit, of Scripture reveals Christ in some way. Now, some passages are closer to a clear and understandable revelation of Christ than others. It is difficult to know how exactly Christ is found in the genealogies. But it is less difficult to know how He relates to David, or Abraham, or the bad kings of Judges, or Solomon, or the testimony of the Minor Prophets, or Job, or tons of other things in the OT. Yet all too often, our preaching veers into moralism. Or, when it's done more faithfully, it reveals the character of God. This is good, but it is not enough.

True biblical preaching that follows Luke 24:27 does something more, something that requires great care and reflection: it reveals Jesus Christ. Unless we do this in our preaching, I do not think that we can say that we have preached truly. Or, to flip it around, if we have not preached Christ, have we truly preached?