Jesus As Master Sermon Illustrator
The variety Jesus employed in his illustrations leaves no aspect of life outside of his gaze.
A joke about preachers says that whatever the preacher’s stage of life and whatever his hobbies, the whole church will certainly know as well. Every sermon illustration and every application comes from the preacher’s wheelhouse. If he has young children, you’ll hear about diapers and sleepless nights and the weight and joy of fatherhood. If Sparky went to the vet for a mystery illness, he’ll tell you. Is he a history buff? Guarantee you’ll hear about the latest Ken Burns documentary and how the Allied forces almost lost the war. And if he hurt his back in a pickleball tournament, oh brother. The updates will last for weeks.
We can laugh about this, but we’d probably prefer the rut of personal stories and applications from what the preacher knows best than the other extremes. Some preachers use no illustrations and make no applications to everyday life. Other preachers have undergrads in the humanities but make complicated allusions to astrophysics that they read about on Wikipedia. No thanks and no thanks.
Recently, two people noted that over the years our church has done little teaching and preaching about spiritual warfare and parenting. I understand why someone might say I don’t preach much about spiritual warfare. In part, it’s because I neither think about it much nor understand it as well as I should. It’s an area of growth for me.
But I’m not sure why I haven’t preached more about parenting. For the last two decades, raising six children has dominated our lives, so I have no shortage of material. Maybe part of my limited applications to parenting come from my intentional choice to only rarely tell stories about my own family. It’s hard enough being a teenager and growing up in the church, let alone being the son or daughter of the lead pastor. I might also be too afraid of losing a limb if I make a misstep as I walk through our cultural parenting minefield. I’m not sure. Or, perhaps deep down, I sense that I’m making up godly parenting as I go, a kind of Spirit-led, Bible-informed winging it. I envy those parents who always have ten solid, wise reasons for everything they do.
Regardless for the reasons I do and do not cover certain subjects, I contrast my own limited preaching with the expansive preaching of Jesus, and I marvel at his ability to address issues and experiences outside of his carpenter and rabbi experiences. We’re all aware of the agricultural material, stuff about sowing and reaping and grains of wheat, but when you really stop to notice, there’s so much more. Even though I’ve read through the Gospels a few dozen times and preached through most of them, it still amazes me to reflect on the variety Jesus employed in his teaching.
John Broadus highlights this variety in his book On the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons. He was an American Baptist preacher who lived through most of the 1800s. In preaching lore, Broadus is called “the father of the expository sermon.” Reading Broadus the other week, I marveled afresh at the breadth of illustrations Jesus employed. It’s a long quote, but look at what Broadus observes about Jesus’s preaching:
One should not forget that many of the best illustrations are derived from the most common pursuits and the most familiar experiences of life. The great mass of our Lord’s illustrations are drawn from ordinary human life.
Jesus referred to sowing wheat and various circumstances which help or hinder its growth, to harvesting, winnowing, and putting in barns, to the management of fig trees and vineyards, and to bottling the wine.
In domestic affairs, he speaks of building houses, various duties of servants and stewards, leavening bread, baking, and borrowing loaves late at night, of dogs under the table, patching clothes and their exposure to moths, lighting lamps, and sweeping the house.
As to trade, he mentions the purchase of costly pearls, finding hidden treasure, money entrusted to servants as capital, lending on interest, creditors and debtors, imprisonment for debt, and tax-gatherers.
Among social relations, he tells of feasts, weddings, and bridal processions, the judge and the widow who had been wronged, the rich man and the beggar, the good Samaritan.
Of political affairs, he alludes to kings going to war; and the parable of the ten pounds (Luke 19) corresponds in every detail to the history of Archelaus as it occurred during our Lord’s childhood. The story of the prodigal son contains beautiful pictures of real life.
And who can think without emotion of Jesus standing in some marketplace and watching children at their games, from which he afterwards drew a striking illustration?
All these form only a part of the illustrative material which, in the brief records of his teaching, he derived from the observation of human life, and in nearly every case from matters familiar to everyone. The lesson is obvious, and it should be emulated. (John A. Broadus, On the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons, 4th edition revised by Vernon L. Stanfield in 1979, 186–7, paragraphs added for readability)
Spending a day reading all four Gospels, noting this variety for ourselves, would open our eyes to the fullness and diversity of the world and the people God created—all of which Jesus saw and noted. When the Bible says that he saw the crowds, and that they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a Shepard, he really saw them.
The book of Hebrews even speaks of Jesus being tempted “in every respect” (4:15). This doesn’t mean Jesus experienced every single possible temptation but that he did experience enough of the cross-section of life that he can identify and even sympathize with us. And apparently not only can he sympathize with us, but he can preach to us—all of us. Indeed, his “I am” statements appeal to all our senses. Just the statement, “I’m the bread of life,” hits sight, taste, smell, and touch.
Preachers will never have this kind of kaleidoscopic variety, not the way Jesus did. But as preachers grow in godliness and experience, would that congregations could also notice preachers growing in variety. And would that congregations could say that a pastor’s sermons became richer and more layered over time, rather than becoming myopic and narrow, another old, blowhard preacher riding his hobbyhorses into retirement. May it never be.
* Photo by Haylee Marick on Unsplash
Naked Books Come into This World, and Naked They Return
Some sobering reflections about book endorsements: Your life and your books are like a vapor, here today and gone tomorrow.
Before I bought, read, and loved Andrew Peterson’s book Adorning the Dark, I held the book and admired it. What I admired most—before even reading it—was not the cover, wonderfully and gloriously stunning as the cover is. What I admired most was that Peterson had sent the book into the world without a foreword, an afterword, or a single endorsement.
I stood there, puzzling and pondering, feeling a little like the Grinch, looking at every Who down in Whoville and mumbling, “It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
The book almost seemed naked. Even though I had bought it, I wondered how a book so improperly clothed would reach readers and how offensive it was that Peterson could be so comfortable in just his own skin while the rest of us want-to-be authors would feel so insecure.
This was the summer of 2020. Peterson’s book had been published the previous year by B&H. Surely I’ve read many books that came into the world without endorsements and forewords. But Peterson’s is the first book I consciously recall noticing the absence of endorsements and forewords. This was over five years ago, but I can remember exactly where I stood in my church office, how I stood looking out the window, and how I thought about what courage it must have taken him to make this choice.
I say “courage,” but let me be clear that I don’t really know. I don’t know Peterson, and I don’t know how the conversation with his publisher went. Courage is the virtue I like to think bubbled up from his faith in God. But maybe Peterson asked every famous person he knew, and they all said no. (I’m confident this didn’t happen.) Or maybe the publisher told him not to seek endorsements for their own reasons, as a kind of experiment. Or maybe forgoing endorsements was just an idea Peterson had because he’s concerned about how fleeting and shallow the praise of men can be.
I don’t know which combination of the many possible reasons it happened. But what I’m highlighting is that it did happen. I stood there, looking at the book and thinking how thankful I was that the decision had been made. Maybe, I wondered, if in the future more authors and publishers would follow their example. Maybe endorsements don’t move the needle on book sales the way publishers once thought they did.
At this point, I’ve read so many endorsements that I even know the tropes. I call one of them the “whether you” statement. “Whether you’re a single mother or a Wall Street tycoon, this book about the prophet Ezekiel is for you.” And it’s not just beginning authors who use them. They look different for established authors, but they too seek blurbs from organizations they hope will confer credibility with their potential readers, credibility they hope will translate into buyability. “A heartwarming book,” says the LA Times. “A must read,” says the Washington Post.
In the future probably everyone will read fewer endorsements, and tropes will become less obvious. Last January, The Guardian ran a story about how one major publishing company would stop the practice of endorsements on some of its imprints. Sean Manning, president and publisher at Simon & Schuster, noted the time and effort endorsements drain from everyone—authors, editors, agents, and publishers. New authors should be working on their craft, and established authors should be writing the next book. Manning even noted that the kind of favor-trading involved in blurbs “creates an incestuous and unmeritocratic literary ecosystem that often rewards connections over talent.” Yuck.
Another reason the trend of seeking endorsements is fading, particularly in a Christian context, is that publishers have had to scrap so many books because the authors of the forewords and endorsements have since discredited themselves. I think of the book Dangerous Calling by Paul Tripp, which addresses the many dangers, toils, and snares of pastoral ministry. Ironically, of the original five endorsements on the back cover, three of the men have been removed from pastoral ministry for moral failure. I also think of the images that circulated online years ago showing a dumpster full of books by Mark Driscoll.
For the last few years, I’ve chuckled at the annual “Christian Book Endorsement Awards” Adam Thomas posts on X. I have no idea how he gathers this information, but he somehow does enough research to bestow awards for endorsements in super quirky, humorous categories. At the start of the long thread in 2024, he reminds readers that the all-time record for the most endorsements is still held by John Frame’s Systematic Theology, which has an incredible 69 endorsements. He notes other categories, such as “Most Endorsements from Australians” and “Most Endorsements from Immediate family members.”
I laughed out loud when I saw who won this year’s “Most Impressive Endorsement-to-Pages Ratio” title. It was Will Dobbie’s short but helpful book, A Time to Mourn: Grieving the Loss of Those Whose Eternities Were Uncertain. I laughed because I was one of the endorsers! Apparently, there were fifteen others, which, Thomas tells readers, meant one endorsement for every 4.38 pages.
When beginning authors seek endorsements, whether they are aware of it or not, something like “cantilevering” occurs. A cantilever is a beam that extends from a structure but is supported on only one side. Picture laying a beam of wood across a tabletop. You can keep scooting the beam further off the edge of the table until nearly half of the beam hangs over the edge. You can push the beam even further off the table if you press down on the table-side of the beam to anchor it.
When I use the idea of “endorsements as cantilevering,” I mean that authors try to cantilever as far as possible through their social networks—their tabletop, if you will—to reach people further along in their careers. And if you have a friend who knows a friend, it’s like anchoring the beam on one side to extend how far you can reach. Sometimes you can reach far enough to get a great endorsement, and sometimes they are too far out of reach.
Most authors I know find the process all so stressful. About a year ago, I teased an author friend about getting endorsements for her next book. This time, she told me, the publisher didn’t want endorsements, which made her very glad.
The stress of reaching for the stars, however, isn’t the only dynamic that happens with endorsements, and it’s not always the main dynamic. There’s also the sweetness of friendships. Sometimes an endorsement becomes precious to an author, not because it will potentially sell another book or because it stokes the author’s ego, but rather because a dear friend of the author took hours to read his book and another hour to write something nice, and all that time and effort became an expression of kindness beyond words.
This is a long post to say that later this summer, when my first traditionally published book releases, The Restoration of All Things: How the Return of Christ Brings Promise for Today, the book won’t have a single endorsement or foreword. And just to be clear, I did try to cantilever toward someone to write the foreword. Even with the anchor of a friend of a friend, I reached too far and heard, “Thanks, but no.”
After that attempt, my publisher told me endorsements wouldn’t be needed for the book, and that made me sad. Sure, I was sad that I might lose some potential sales, and that scared me. So much fear swirls around the publishing wilderness that even strong relationships between authors and publishers can seem fragile, making it impossible not to be affected. So that kind of “will my book ever sell” sadness hit me.
Far more than a loss in potential sales, however, I was sad because for a dozen years I’ve been writing and making author friends, and it would have been a kindness beyond words to receive their encouragement.
And yet the longer I’ve thought about it, the less sad and the more thankful I’ve become. I’m not wasting my time chasing endorsements, and neither are more established authors. So there’s that. But beyond the time saved, I’m thankful for the sobering reminder that all books are like grass, here today and out of print tomorrow. Only the one book that needs no endorsements remains forever.
In a few months, the publisher will mail me my first box of author copies. Maybe I’ll post a video of me opening that box, a trope I might just embrace. Or maybe I won’t post that video and leave the sacred moment to be just that.
Regardless, one day my new, shiny book will go out of print. I hope and pray it’s not after the first printing. But all of that is in the Lord’s hands now. And it always was. Because—in truth—with or without endorsements, books come into the world and return as people do: naked.
* Photo adapted from Eduardo Barrios on Unsplash
Reading List 2025
A list of every book I read last year and some reasons you might want to read a few of them too.
My first post of each new year always lists the books I read the previous year. If you’d like to see the previous posts—and I’m not completely sure why—you can find them here: 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024. Mostly I do this for accountability, but I also know a few other book nerds who enjoy these sorts of posts. This year I got through 64 books, some longer and some very short. For what it’s worth, my Excel spreadsheet shows that my reading log from 2013–2025 includes 868 books and 225,849 pages.
As is typically the case, several of the books cluster around themes. For example, I read several books on heaven, preaching, writing, prayer, 1 Corinthians, and a few in a cluster we could call “books by Ray Ortlund.”
The books in the “prayer cluster” and “1 Corinthians cluster” were closely related to our preaching at church. The cluster of books by Ray Ortlund was included because he is awesome. His book The Death of Porn is fantastic. Still, my favorite of his comes from several years ago, his biblical theology of marriage called Marriage and the Mystery of the Gospel (see my review from 2017). And there’s also the cluster related to freelance book design and other writing work, which probably accounts for five books this year.
I’ll offer a few comments below, starting with some of the standouts from a few of the clusters.
From the “writing cluster” . . .
I read two reference books not meant to be read: The Christian Writer’s Manual of Style: 4th Edition by Robert Hudson and The Chicago Manual of Style, 18th Edition by The University of Chicago Press Editorial Staff, also known as CMOS. Together these books are almost 2,000 pages. I posted a picture of CMOS on social media when I finished, and the responses were hilarious to me. A bunch of friends had questions about why anyone would do that. I can only say that in this reading quirk I’m a mystery to myself and that I resonate with the apostle Paul: “I do not always do what I want to do but what I hate I do.” (On a serious note, CMOS is the gold standard for editing and formatting, and I need to be familiar with it for my freelance work.)
I also read several books on the craft of writing, three of which are worth brief highlights. Two were re-reads, and one was new. The first was The Writer’s Diet: A Guide to Fit Prose by Helen Sword. It’s so short, but so good. The second was Stein On Writing: A Master Editor of Some of the Most Successful Writers of Our Century Shares His Craft Techniques and Strategies by Sol Stein. This one is good, too, but readers should be advised that it has some adult content and language. The new book was The Storied Life: Christian Writing as Art and Worship by Jared C. Wilson. I’m always a fan of Wilson’s books, and it was delightful to have Wilson writing about writing.
From the “heaven cluster” . . .
My favorite book from this cluster, and maybe my favorite book all year, was Nancy Guthrie’s Blessed: Experiencing the Promise of the Book of Revelation. I have always believed that God gave us the book of Revelation for our good. How could a Christian think otherwise? Yet all the imagery, all the debates, and all the confusion sometimes make that belief difficult and have given me hesitation about teaching the vision John received on Patmos. Guthrie’s book, however, made it easier to see that Revelation, with all its twists and turns, is not only eminently preachable by ordinary pastors to ordinary believers but also eminently believable and livable.
I enjoyed Heaven: A Comprehensive Guide to Everything the Bible Says About Our Eternal Home by Randy Alcorn. The book is huge. A friend once complained to me about it, claiming that Alcorn makes too many extrapolations from the Bible text into mere inference and relies too much on C.S. Lewis. I was ready for these criticisms. There is a lot of Lewis, but I find the criticism overstated.
Another book, The Bible and the Future by Anthony A. Hoekema, was a reread for me. It’s a bit more technical and thus not as easy, but it’s really good too. I’m not sure whether Hoekema includes any Lewis quotes, but he will gently show you why the amillennial view of the end times best fits the Bible.
From the “prayer cluster” . . .
One of our church’s goals was to pursue a culture of prayer. Our church leaders felt we had people who prayed, but we weren’t sure we could be described as a church that prayed. So I tried to help our church in this regard and also grow in prayer personally. I think we did all right, and I think I did too.
My favorite book from this cluster was Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools: An Invitation to the Wonder and Mystery of Prayer by Tyler Staton. I do need to flag that a few of his comments about the Bible could be worded better. So for me, it’s a qualified recommendation for discerning readers already established in their faith. Still, I see why so many people like the book. He’s a great storyteller. (Older readers might not like this book as much.)
And of course, Timothy Keller brought conviction and heat in his book Prayer: Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God. We found his definition of prayer so helpful: “Prayer is continuing a conversation that God has started through his Word and his grace, which eventually becomes a full encounter with him” (48).
Against the Machine . . .
I don’t know what to think of Against the Machine: On the Unmaking of Humanity by Paul Kingsnorth. I keep seeing others talk about it, and my friend Joe recommended it. To get me excited about the book, my friend even read me a paragraph over coffee. In that paragraph, from the end of the nearly four-hundred-page book, Kingsnorth fumes about how much he wants to break all the screens that so transfix us, especially when he sees children at restaurants hypnotized by them. The whole book is one long, sophisticated, and enjoyable rant. I’m not sure he convinced me. You’ll still find me on the grid and even online. But I am sure I am more disturbed about where humanity has been and where it is heading. We should all use our phones less.
A Little Theology of Exercise . . .
Twice this year, I listened to A Little Theology of Exercise: Enjoying Christ in Body and Soul by David Mathis. It’s so short and so good. A particular benefit is his focus on connecting the stewardship of our bodies with greater delight in God, a classic David Mathis and DesiringGod theme.
Unpublished books . . .
I always read a few unpublished books (or, hopefully, yet-to-be-published books). Some of them are my own, and some are from friends.
After I finished the manuscript and two rounds of editing on my book about the return of Christ, I went back to a passion project I’ve had in the background for the last five years. The title has changed over the years, but it’s something like Writing Through the Wilderness: What Abraham Teaches Us About the Writing Life (A Memoirish Essay to Encourage Christian Writers). I hope to make publishing decisions about it in the next few months. Let me just say that it’s been tricky. But after this rewrite of the whole book, it feels more cohesive and compelling. I hope someday a reader or two will be able to say the same.
The Bible . . .
This year was something like the twentieth time I’ve read the Bible in a year. If pressed, I’d say it was number twenty-two. But I can’t be sure because I’m not sure when I started doing this. Still, I plan to keep it up.
Yes, because I move through this quickly, I’m sure I miss stuff. But we all still miss stuff, even when we slow down and zoom in. The Bible is just that big and rich. Also, as a pastor, I get plenty of chances to zoom in and slow down, so I tend to like that my personal Bible reading covers the full story.
I’m not sure if you’ve read the Bible cover to cover before, but you can do it. If you skip one day a week (as I do on Sundays), you still only have to read about 3–5 chapters a day. That probably takes twenty minutes a day and two hours a week. You probably have two hours in your weekly schedule. And don’t be afraid to hold a physical Bible and let an audiobook read the story to you. That can be really helpful for keeping you going at a steady pace and staying focused. I didn’t do this last year, though I have in years past.
Reading the Bible cover-to-cover might change everything about everything for you in just that first year. And it might not. But I’m banking on the fact that reading the Bible cover-to-cover every year will certainly change a person.
Did you have any favorites from last year? Let me know in the comments below.
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Books per Year
Pages per Year
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In order of completion, this year I read . . .
The Toxic War on Masculinity: How Christianity Reconciles the Sexes by Nancy R. Pearcey (352 pages)
Walking with God through Pain and Suffering by Timothy Keller (368 pages)
Heaven: A Comprehensive Guide to Everything the Bible Says About Our Eternal Home by Randy Alcorn (560 pages)
Embodied Hope: A Theological Meditation on Pain and Suffering by Kelly M. Kapic (205 pages)
Heaven: Priceless Encouragements on the Way to our Eternal Home by J.C. Ryle (105 pages)
Creation Regained: Biblical Basics for a Reformational Worldview by Albert M. Wolters (155 pages)
Work and Our Labor in the Lord (Short Studies in Biblical Theology) by James M. Hamilton Jr. (128 pages)
Broken But Beautiful: Reflections on the Blessings of the Local Church by Edited by Benjamin Vrbicek (144 pages)
Green Zone: Attachment and Flourishing for Christian Leaders by Jesse Gill (208 pages)
The Visitation by Frank E. Peretti (528 pages)
The Case for Amillennialism by Kim Riddlebarger (336 pages)
The Blessed Hope: A Biblical Study of the Second Advent and the Rapture by George Eldon Ladd (167 pages)
Creationland (a currently unpublished play) by Stuart Reese (150 pages)
The Bible and the Future by Anthony A. Hoekema (354 pages)
Heaven Is a World of Love by Jonathan Edwards (128 pages)
The Bible: Romans to Revelation, Part 6 of 6 by God (300 pages)
The Nehemiah Way: Mobilize a Church Full of Leaders by John Wilson and Amy Lynch (240 pages)
Reflections on the Psalms by C. S. Lewis (192 pages)
Flannery O’Connor and the Scandal of Faith (Audiobook course) by Jessica Hooten Wilson (128 pages)
The Writer’s Diet: A Guide to Fit Prose by Helen Sword (88 pages)
A Week in the Life of Corinth (A Week in the Life Series) by Ben Witherington III (159 pages)
The Cross and Christian Ministry: Leadership Lessons from 1 Corinthians by D. A. Carson (160 pages)
The Christian Writer’s Manual of Style: 4th Edition by Robert Hudson (624 pages)
The Bible: Genesis to Deuteronomy, Part 1 of 6 by God (300 pages)
Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools: An Invitation to the Wonder and Mystery of Prayer by Tyler Staton (272 pages)
A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World by Paul E. Miller (304 pages)
Preaching and Preachers by D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones (352 pages)
Prayer: How Praying Together Shapes the Church by John Onwuchekwa (144 pages)
Praying in Public: A Guidebook for Prayer in Corporate Worship by Pat Quinn (176 pages)
Four Seasons in Rome: On Twins, Insomnia, and the Biggest Funeral in the History of the World by Anthony Doerr (224 pages)
Praying Backwards: Transform Your Prayer Life by Beginning in Jesus’ Name by Bryan Chapell (208 pages)
Why Johnny Can’t Preach: The Media Have Shaped the Messengers by T. David Gordon (112 pages)
Prayer: Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God by Timothy Keller (336 pages)
Tim Keller on the Christian Life: The Transforming Power of the Gospel by Matt Smethurst (240 pages)
Good News at Rock Bottom: Finding God When the Pain Goes Deep and Hope Seems Lost by Ray Ortlund (160 pages)
Stein On Writing: A Master Editor of Some of the Most Successful Writers of Our Century Shares His Craft Techniques and Strategies by Sol Stein (320 pages)
Writing Through the Wilderness: What Abraham Teaches Us About the Writing Life (Not Yet Published) by Benjamin Vrbicek (176 pages)
Known and Loved: Experiencing the Affection of God in Psalm 139 by Glenna Marshall (176 pages)
The Bible: Joshua to Esther, Part 2 of 6 by God (300 pages)
Essentials: Five Core Beliefs of the Christian Faith by Guy Kneebone (192 pages)
The Restoration of All Things: How the Promise of Christ’s Return Brings Us Comfort Today by Benjamin Vrbicek (192 pages)
The Death of Porn: Men of Integrity Building a World of Nobility by Ray Ortlund (144 pages)
Offering and Embracing Christ: The Marrow Theology of John Colquhoun of Leith (1748–1827) by John C. Biegel (304 pages)
Synapse (a novel) by Steven James (384 pages)
Writing Through the Wilderness: What Abraham Teaches Us About the Writing Life (Not Yet Published) by Benjamin Vrbicek (176 pages)
A Little Theology of Exercise: Enjoying Christ in Body and Soul by David Mathis (128 pages)
On the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons by John A. Broadus (368 pages)
Help! I’m Married to My Pastor: Encouragement for Ministry Wives and Those Who Love Them by Jani Ortlund (128 pages)
Christ-Centered Preaching: Redeeming the Expository Sermon by Bryan Chapell (448 pages)
The Bible: Psalms to Song of Solomon, Part 3 of 6 by God (300 pages)
To Live Is Christ to Die Is Gain by Matt Chandler with Jared C. Wilson (224 pages)
The Storied Life: Christian Writing as Art and Worship by Jared C. Wilson (224 pages)
You’re Not Crazy: Gospel Sanity for Weary Churches by Ray Ortlund and Sam Allberry (176 pages)
Blessed: Experiencing the Promise of the Book of Revelation by Nancy Guthrie (272 pages)
Free to Weep: Finding the Courage to Grieve and Embracing the God Who Heals by Brittany Lee Allen (176 pages)
Minister’s Tax & Financial Guide by Michael Martin (206 pages)
The Philosophy of Composition by E. D. Hirsch (216)
Against the Machine: On the Unmaking of Humanity by Paul Kingsnorth (368 pages)
The Chicago Manual of Style, 18th Edition by The University of Chicago Press Editorial Staff (1192 pages)
The Bible: Isaiah to Malachi, Part 4 of 6 by God (300 pages)
Spirit-Filled Singing: Bearing Fruit as We Worship Together by Ryanne J. Molinari (208 pages)
A Little Theology of Exercise: Enjoying Christ in Body and Soul by David Mathis (128 pages)
Lost Gifts: Miscarriage, Grief, and the God of All Comfort by Brittany Lee Allen (200 pages)
The Bible: Matthew to Acts, Part 5 of 6 by God (300 pages)