11 Resources on The Bible, Sexuality, and Homosexuality

In May, our church spent two nights teaching on God’s design for sexual intimacy (here and here). We covered topics such as marriage, pornography, and homosexuality. In preparation, the two teaching pastors at our church (Jason Abbott and I) created the following list of our top eleven books on sexuality.

1.  The Bible 
We start here, because, well… it’s just the place to start. The key passages from God’s Word that deal with sex generally, as well as all of the passages that deal with homosexuality specifically, are as follows: Genesis 1-3; Genesis 19; Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13; Judges 19; Proverbs 5-7; The Song of Solomon; Romans 1:26-28; 1 Corinthians 6:9-11; and 1 Timothy 1:8-11. (This hyperlink is to the ESV Study Bible by Crossway. I’ve been using it for several years and have found it a very helpful resource for deep study of the Word.)

2. A Celebration of Sex by Dr. Douglas E. Rosenau
Sex is a good gift from God and this book celebrates it as such. As well, Dr. Rosenau addresses typical problems couples experience in marital intimacy, whether physical, emotional, relational, or spiritual. We wouldn’t recommend this book for anyone that isn’t currently married.

3. What Is The Meaning of Sex? by Denny Burk
This is a great book for believers who want to explore various questions about the ultimate purpose for sex. At the most fundamental level, Burk argues persuasively that human sexuality is intended to bring God glory. (See my book review here.)

4. The Mingling of Souls by Matt Chandler
This is an engaging study through The Song of Solomon. The book moves through dating, courting, marriage, and intimacy. Additionally, there is an excellent small group video series available.

5. What Does the Bible Really Teach About Homosexuality? by Kevin DeYoung
There are so many questions about homosexuality worthy of consideration, but this book answers the question that must be answered before any other questions can be appropriately broached. That question is this: according to the Bible, is homosexual practice a sin or (under the right circumstances) is it a blessing we should celebrate and solemnize? In this book, DeYoung affirms the traditional understanding and also engages the most common objections to this view.

6. Is God anti-gay? by Sam Allberry
This book explores what the Bible says about marriage, sexuality, and same-sex attraction. What is especially helpful in it is Allberry’s perspective on these matters. He is a pastor who experiences same-sex attraction yet is committed to living a celibate life in accordance with his understanding of the Bible. (See my book review here.)

7. Washed and Waiting by Wesley Hill
Like Allberry, Wesley Hill experiences same-sex attraction and, like Allberry, is committed to celibacy for the glory of God. However, Hill’s book is more of a personal memoir of his experience of growing up in the church and grappling with his sexuality. This book is especially helpful for those wanting to consider whether their church provides a healthy, gospel-centered atmosphere for those grappling with same-sex attraction. (See my book review here.)

8. The Bible and Homosexual Practice by Robert Gagnon
This book is for those who want to grapple with the question of homosexuality at a very academic level. Gagnon is perhaps the leading scholar on the Bible and homosexuality. Interestingly, even though he’s part of a denomination affirming homosexual marriage, he sees nothing in the Bible that would support that position. Consequently, he has been much maligned within his denomination for his writings on this topic.

9. Loving Homosexuals as Jesus Would by Chad Thompson
This is a practical book teaching us how we might love our homosexual friends. It is written by a former practicing homosexual.

10. Out of a Far Country by Christopher Yuan
This book is the moving personal story of Yuan’s conversion to Christianity. Like Wesley Hill and Sam Allberry, he’s same-sex attracted. It is also one of the best books available for thinking through why the church and Christians are often seen as enemies by the LGBT community. Yuan does an excellent job of helping believers rethink their approach to sharing the Gospel with LGBT friends, family, and acquaintances.

11. Porn-Again Christian by Mark Driscoll
This book, as the subtitle states, is “a frank discussion on pornography and masturbation.” It’s a book for men. You can Google it to download it as a free ebook or you can click here.

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WHO IS JESUS by Greg Gilbert (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Greg Gilbert. Who is Jesus? (9Marks). Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway, 2015. 144 pp. $12.99.

Life is full of questions. Many of them, however, don’t really matter.

You want fries with that? Are we there yet?

But some questions do matter.

Honey, did you remember to get the kids from school? Any idea why I pulled you over today? Will you marry me?

In my own life, another question has been, and continues to be, very important.

Who is Jesus?

Greg Gilbert—a pastor in Louisville, Kentucky—agrees; that’s why he wrote a book with that title. In fact, Gilbert states that it is “the most important question you’ll ever consider” (23).

By Greg Gilbert Who Is Jesus? (9Marks) [Hardcover]

Crossway

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For many, however, this question seems, at best, irrelevant. For many, the thinking goes like this: “I’m sure Jesus was a great moral teacher and he helped people find their way, but he lived so long ago—what difference could Jesus possibly make to me?”

Rather than dismissing these sentiments altogether, Christians can certainly agree that Jesus’s fame is in stark contrast to many aspects of his life that ought to have made him historically obscure. Gilbert writes,

After all, we’re talking about a man who was born in the first century into an obscure Jewish carpenter’s family. He never held any political office, never ruled any nation, never commanded any armies. He never even met a Roman emperor. Instead, for three-and-a-half years this man Jesus simply taught people about ethics and spirituality, he read and explained the Jewish Scriptures to Jewish people… (15)

Christians and non-Christians alike can look at details such as these and wonder why anyone would even speak about Jesus today, let alone worship him.

But it’s interesting that Jesus didn’t think the question of his identity was irrelevant; he believed it mattered a great deal what others thought of him. In fact, in one of the gospel accounts, Jesus asked his followers this very question: “Who do you say that I am?” (Matthew 16:15). Jesus cared a great deal about what others thought about him because he believed great things were at stake for others in how they related to him. Jesus even believed an individual’s eternal destiny was contingent upon how he or she related to him (John 14:6).

But if when you hear this, you are inclined to dismiss it as “hype”—the over-inflated rhetoric so common in religious circles—then Gilbert’s book is for you. It’s not written primarily for those already convinced but for those with questions. This is obvious in several ways.

For starters, consider the way readers are addressed. Near the beginning, Gilbert writes, “Think about it: You probably have at least one or two acquaintances who would say that they are Christians” (16). The assumption, obviously, is that Gilberts understands that many of his readers will not already be deeply committed Christians involved in a local church where they would certainly have more than “one or two [Christian] acquaintances.”

Also, throughout the book Gilbert preemptively raises the kinds of questions that an interested skeptic might have. For example, questions about the Bible. Gilbert writes,

Now wait a second before you close this book! I know some people recoil when the Bible is mentioned because they think of it as “the Christians’ book,” and therefore they think it’s biased and useless for getting accurate information… (19)

Right after this quote, he goes on to make a superb defense for the relevance and reliability of the Bible, and he does so without stuffing the prose with confusing, technical terms. Never does he refer to the “perspicuity” of Scripture, which is an unclear word that actually means clarity. Nor in the book will you read the phrase “hypostatic union,” though the truth that Jesus was “fully God and fully human,” is in there. In other words, the book is accessible—not simplistic or childish, but accessible.

An additional strength of the book for non-Christians is that what the book does teach, it teaches in narrative. By this I mean that Gilbert unfolds the answer to “Who is Jesus?” in the same way the New Testament does—one story at a time. The effect is that we, the readers, are given the same vantage point as Jesus’s early followers. Gilbert writes,

We’re not going to work page by page through any one of the New Testament documents. Instead, we’re going to use all those sources to try to get to know Jesus in the same way that one who was following him might have experienced him—first as an extraordinary man who did wholly unexpected things, but then with the quickly dawning realization that “extraordinary” doesn’t even being to describe him… He was more than a teacher, more than a prophet, more than a revolutionary, even more than a king. As one of [Jesus’s followers] put it to him one night, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” (21-22)

There are other ways this book will help non-Christians consider who Jesus is—such as its length (only 144 pages) and its balance between humor and urgency—but what if you are already a Christian? What’s in it for us?

If you are a Christian reading this review, which I suspect most are, you shouldn’t find the book boring. As a pastor, I didn’t. I even learned a few new things, but perhaps more importantly, I was re-confronted with the many things we tend to forget about Jesus—but shouldn’t. And if you’d like to go deeper with the book, there is a helpful study guide available as well. I could see great benefit in giving Who is Jesus? to a non-Christian friend with the hope of meeting for several weeks to discuss “the most important question [they’ll] ever consider” (23).

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Emotional Support for the Canaanites

At our church, we are beginning a preaching series through the Book of Judges. My co-pastor suggested we brand the sermon series, “With heroes like these, who needs villains.” If you’re familiar with Judges, then you get it. But we are preaching through this book because we don’t want to forget that God’s grace often shines brightest against the darkest of backdrops. While doing preliminary research, I came across the below quote from Dale Ralph Davis in his Judges’ commentary, Judges: Such a Great Salvation. The quote comes in the context of Davis’ treatment of one of the main objections secular people (and others) raise against the Book of Judges, namely, the morality of the conquest of the land of Canaan by the Israelites, especially because the Lord commanded the disposition. Or, in short, the objection says, “holy wars” were always—and are always—wrong.

Judges: Such a Great Salvation (Focus on the Bible)

By Dale Ralph Davis

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This objection is not unique to The Book of Judges but it is prominent here, as it is in Joshua. Consequently, commentators typically address it, but often, it feels, they do so reluctantly and only out of necessity. Thus to readers, it often feels as though the author would have preferred to tiptoe around the topic, or perhaps that he was sent unwillingly by an editor on a mission to rescue God from bad PR.

Regardless, I can understand why. In a day when theists strap bombs to themselves and others murder abortion doctors in the foyers of churches, God’s OT land acquisition program needs a careful explanation. Yet being careful is not the same as tiptoeing. And Davis won’t be found guilty of the latter; he approaches the objection with his typically fresh, unapologetic, and punchy style—a style I first experienced in his book on preaching Old Testament narrative texts, The Word Became Fresh (which I intend to post a full book review of later this summer).

To be sure, Davis’ comments are not the final word on the subject of holy war in the OT, but they certainly are a good first word.

For many readers Judges 1 raises once more the so-called moral problem of the conquest. How horrid that Israel butcher innocent Canaanites, wreak havoc and misery, grab their land – and all, allegedly, at Yahweh’s command!

If only the Canaanites could know how much emotional support they received from modern western readers. And the conquest was frightful. But people who bemoan the fate of the poor Canaanites don’t view the conquest from the Bible’s own perspective. They forget one vital fact: the Canaanites were not innocent.

Moses was emphatic about that; he humbled the Israelites by insisting that Yahweh was not giving them Canaan because they were such godly folk but because the Canaanites were so grossly wicked (Deut. 9:4-6). If you want all the glory details, see Leviticus 18:6-30 and Deuteronomy 18:9-14. These tests show that the conquest was an act of just judgment upon a corrupt and perverted people. The Bible, of course, does not claim the conquest will be palatable; but it does insist it was just.

Anyway, contemporary western church members who vicariously and avidly gorge themselves on violence via television and cinema have forfeited any right to throw the first stone. (16, emphasis original)

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This Quote Terrifies Me

I remember when I heard it. I was riding my bike listening to the audio of a panel discussion. I couldn’t keep pedaling. It’s a quote from D.A. Carson at the 2011 Gospel Coalition conference.

I sometimes tell students at the seminary that I have learned during the last thirty five years that most of the students do not learn most of what I teach them. What they tend to learn is what I most emphasize; they tend to learn what I come back to again and again—what I put at the center.

Therefore, if it is a broad sweeping discipline that I am trying to pass on to them, only a few of them will pick that up—the other eggheads like me. But on the other hand, if at the heart of a teacher’s ministry is a passion for the gospel, a passion for men and women, even while they are teaching advanced Greek grammar and that sort of thing, it does shape their priorities and values beyond the discipline itself.

(D.A. Carson, speaking at The Gospel Coalition: Training the Next Generation of Pastors and Other Christian Leaders, Panel Discussion: R. Albert Mohler, Jr., Mark Driscoll, David Helm, Don Carson and Ligon Duncan, The Gospel Coalition 2011 National Conference, Apr 13, 2011; quote at 25:00-25:30 minutes)

You may be confused why this quote terrifies me. It terrifies me because I teach for a living. And as a teacher, I too emphasize all sorts of different things. And Carson’s comments terrify me because they force me to evaluate what I prize at the center of all that I teach. What do I come back to again and again? What is at the heart of my ministry? Is it the gospel—a passion for the fame of Jesus Christ?

Consider what you are really passionate about—the thing behind all of the other things in your life. What is it that you think about when you are just sitting around or driving across town? What do you day dream about? If I spent the week hanging out with you, what would I remember most?

These are scary questions.

A great example of keeping the “main thing” central in one’s teaching is seen in the fatherly advice from Proverbs 1-9. Over and over—and just before and just after everything else that the father talks about—the father in Proverbs calls his son to treasure the supremacy of wisdom and the commands of God (cf. 1:20-33; 2:1-22; 3:5-8; 4:1-27; 5:1-2; 6:20-23; 7:1-4; 8:1-9:18). I think the takeaway is that there are 1,000 pursuits in life—but above them all and through them all—we are to seek to know God in wisdom.

It’s so tempting in the teaching ministry of a church or in a seminary, or in life generally, to be pulled into 1,000 separate noble pursuits. But what I learn from Carson and Proverbs is that we have to keep the main thing, the main thing— since everything else will probably be forgotten.

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Creative Nonfiction Writers’ Conference

Dear Pastor-elders of Community Evangelical Free Church: In April, all of us traveled to Orlando for a pastor’s conference. As you know, over 6,000 others did the same thing. And, in my estimation, at least 5,000 of the attendees were males.

Last week, thanks to your encouragement and support, I attended another conference. This time I was in Pittsburgh, and this time, there were only 155 people there. But—and I noticed this as soon as I walked in the hotel lobby—the ratio was reversed: it must have been 85% women.

It was an odd juxtaposition, these two conferences. Then again, I expected that; I was there to learn about different things—not theology and pastoring in a local church, but the craft of writing. Specifically, I was there to learn how nonfiction authors could improve their writing by using elements of fiction—things like dialogue, conflict, tension, scene, personification, foreshadowing, point of view, and character development.

Sarah, the lady who stood near me as we waited for our registration packets, was there from Chicago, where she is a professional writing coach. Jessica, who sat next to me during the Friday morning session, drove 6 hours that morning from Syracuse; she teaches English to high school freshman. All of us were there to learn how to tell stories—true stories—and to tell them well.

But in the late 1990s, so we learned at the conference, creative nonfiction (or narrative nonfiction as it is often called), was relatively unknown. And where it was known, it was mostly decried. For example, a ’97 Vanity Fair article attacked the genre and its leading protagonist, Lee Gutkind, and pejoratively called him “the Godfather behind creative nonfiction.” Gutkind was a keynote speaker at the conference, and he told us that when Vanity Fair published the article, his fellow college faculty members mocked him to the extent that he didn’t want to leave his house.

Now, however, creative nonfiction is the fastest growing genre in publishing, so we were told. Now, narrative law and narrative medicine, for example, are booming. Many forces, many streams have made it thus, including authors like Tom Wolfe and movements like the New Journalism. But whatever its recent origins, we all know that people have loved the power of stories ever since there have been people to tell them and campfires to tell them around.

On the conference website, it says,

The publishing landscape has recently seen a noteworthy shift toward longform first-person narratives. From traditional news outlets like the New York Times and the Washington Post to less traditional ones like Slate and Salon, stories driven by a strong first-person voice are taking on many of the most important topics of our time. (emphasis added).

I’m not sure how many at the conference consider matters of faith and the gospel some of the “most important topics of our time,” but I know that we do. And so did the Apostle Paul. He called the gospel a matter of “first importance” (1 Corinthians 15:3-6). Therefore, shouldn’t Christians commit themselves to being the best writers? Shouldn’t we be those who tell the best stories?

I think so; we have the best subject matter.

And for me, I can say that the conference did many other things besides reaffirming my commitment to the craft and stirring my creative juices. The conference also gave me valuable insights into the publishing world, and also it allowed me to explore a dream that rattles around in my heart, namely, one day pursuing a writing degree. It’s a dream that could be many years away, or possibly never materialize, but the conference provided needed reconnaissance.

As well, there were a number of nuggets from the conference that served as reminders for me in my preaching at Community. Here’s just one example. After a woman practiced her book “pitch” to the panel of experts, the panel reminded the author that, while the book seemed interesting and true enough, she still had to answer this question: “why this, why now?” The panel continued, “readers and publishers have to know why THIS TRUTH, THIS STORY needs to be presented in THIS cultural moment.”

The import to preaching is direct. It’s not enough just to preach truth; good preaching must also apply every truth to our particular cultural moment, and even one’s particular congregation. There were additional takeaways for preaching, but my letter is getting long already.

So, thank you, pastor-elders, for your commitment to the continuing education of the full-time, vocational pastors at our church. Events like this help sustain me in the pastorate. I do not want my pastoral ministry to be like a sparkler—bright, yet brief. Rather, I want to be a lighthouse—standing against the waves over the long haul. And your commitment to send me to this conference added cement to my foundation.

With much gratitude, Benjamin

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IS GOD ANTI-GAY? & WASHED AND WAITING (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Sam Allberry. Is God anti-gay? And other questions about homosexuality, the Bible and same-sex attraction. United Kingdom: The Good Book Company, 2013. 88 pp. $7.99.

Wesley Hill. Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010. 160 pp. $14.99.

There has been a steady stream of books about homosexuality published in the last few years, but two in particular from evangelical authors have received a lot of attention. The two books I am speaking of are Is God anti-gay? by Sam Allberry and Washed and Waiting by Wesley Hill. And they should receive attention; they are great books. Besides being great books, they also have many other things in common. For example, both books are short and evangelical. Additionally, they are written by Christian men who struggle with same-sex attraction, but yet—and this is so important—believe that God calls them to forsake acting on these feelings and to live celibate lives.

Maybe you can already see why they have received so much attention.

In this post, I am going to point out some of the strengths of each book. Then I am going to discuss one difference between the authors with respect to the terminology they use to describe their lingering homosexual feelings. Finally, I’ll offer a few comments about what Christians mean and don’t mean by “change.”

But before I do all of that, let me make a disclaimer: I am primarily writing this post for Christians that already hold to a traditional understanding of the Bible and sexuality. In other words, I’m not primarily writing this to convince the unconvinced.

Is God anti-gay? by Sam Allberry

Sam Allberry is the author of the first book, Is God anti-gay? And other questions about homosexuality, the Bible and same-sex attraction. He is a pastor in England and has also authored Connected: Living in Light of the Trinity. Here are a few of the strengths of his book.

Is God anti-gay? (Questions Christians Ask)

By Sam Allberry

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First, Allberry includes the content of gospel message very early in the book (7-10), and he explains how this message changed his life. I consider this a great benefit because I suspect that many people who know very little about Christianity will be drawn in by the book’s provocative title. And speaking of starting with something, before Allberry dives into all of the Bible’s “Thou Shalt Not’s,” he first begins with God’s positive design for sex (13)—also very helpful.

Second, Allberry frequently, and helpfully, places the struggle with homosexual practice within the larger, general struggle with sin that is common to all followers of Christ (11-12). I mention this because too often in the church we tend to single out homosexual practice, even among other sexual sins. To a point, I understand why this is done, but it’s not entirely helpful either. Every prohibition against homosexual practice that’s in the Bible occurs in the context of a list of many different sins. That’s worth remembering.

Third, Allberry’s treatment of the biblical passages relating specifically to homosexuality is clear and compelling (25-38). I’m not saying that everyone who disagrees with the traditional view will be won over, but I am saying that a strong case is made for it.

Finally, the book is eminently practical for those that have objections and questions. Examples include things like the following: “Surely same-sex partnership is OK if it’s committed and faithful?” (39-40); “Jesus never mentions homosexuality, so how can it be wrong?” (40-41); “What are the main struggles for a homosexual Christian?” (54); and “My non-Christian friend has just told me they’re gay. How should I respond?” (74). These are real objections and real questions, and Allberry, with humility and grace, gives real answers.

Washed and Waiting by Wesley Hill

Wesley Hill is the author of the second book. The full title is Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality. The title comes from two verses that Hill believes are foundational on this topic, namely, 1 Corinthians 6:11 (“You were washed”) and Romans 8:23 (“we wait eagerly”).

Washed and Waiting: Reflections on Christian Faithfulness and Homosexuality

By Wesley Hill

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Hill completed his undergraduate degree at Wheaton College, and received a masters and PhD from Durham University in the UK. He is currently an Assistant Professor of Biblical Studies at Trinity School for Ministry just north of Pittsburgh, PA. His most recent book is Spiritual Friendship: Finding Love in the Church as a Celibate Gay Christian.

Comparing Washed and Waiting with Is God anti-gay? is a little like comparing the proverbial apples and oranges—sure there are a few similarities, but fundamentally they are just not the same. Let me share a few of the strengths of Hill’s book, and hopefully that will help you grasp how the two books are simultaneously similar and different.

First, the book reads much more like a memoir than all of the other books I have read on the topic of homosexuality. This is because, in many ways, it is just that—a memoir. In the book, Hill shares his own story, but also included are chapters on the lives of two other Christian authors who struggled with homosexual desires, namely, Henri Nouwen and Gerard Manley Hopkins (both now deceased).

In this way, Hill’s audience is rather specific. Up front, he tells readers, “I’m writing as one homosexual Christian for other homosexual Christians” (16). Perhaps that is a narrow market—a gay Christian writing for other gay Christians. However, the special, captivating power inherent to memoirs has most certainly expanded his audience. And by “special, captivating power,” I mean this: memoirs have a way of inviting believers (in this case, some who have homosexual desires, others who do not) to live vicariously in the struggles and victories of another saint, which is a wonderful and soul enlarging exercise.

Second, the prose of Washed and Waiting is beautiful. Hill has a strong command of language. Additionally, he fills his book with eclectic references to the arts in general and literature in particular. References to paintings, poems, plays, and prose are employed in the most natural of ways. For example, in every chapter expect to see quotations or allusions to a dozen authors, people like H.W. Auden, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Wendell Berry, William Shakespeare, J.R.R. Tolkien, Leo Tolstoy, Anne Lamott, and of course, C.S. Lewis; yes, lots of Lewis.

Finally, Washed and Waiting articulates the questions of broader culture that seem to clash with a traditional Christian understanding of sexuality, love, and “good news.” That these questions are given a voice will no doubt make some uncomfortable, especially because in just a few places it’s not always immediately clear whether these questions continue to be Hill’s questions (or only were his questions). However, the careful reader will see that in and around the questions and questioning, there is a deep sense that questions about homosexuality do have answers, and these answers are beautiful and biblical answers, which Hill himself affirms and loves.

One Difference between the Authors and Their Terminology

As I said above, these two books are similar in many ways, but fundamentally not the same. I hope you’ve gained a sense of this from the above discussion of their strengths. There is one difference, however, that would be helpful to point out explicitly. You may have already noticed it, but the difference has to do with the way terminology is used to describe on-going homosexual desires.

Sam Allberry tends to speak in terms of “same-sex attraction,” or especially with respect to Christians, in terms of “struggle with same-sex attraction.” You can see this reflected in the subtitle of his book (And other questions about homosexuality, the Bible and same-sex attraction). Wesley Hill, on the other hand, is far more comfortable continuing to use the terms gay and homosexual, although I should point out that Hill often qualifies the terms slightly by adding the word “celibate” (e.g. “a celibate gay Christian”).

For many, this difference is far more than a semantic one. Our understanding of what we believe to be the highest and most fundamental aspects of human identity is at stake. Allberry writes:

In western culture today the obvious term for someone with homosexual feelings is “gay.” But in my experience this often refers to far more than someone’s sexual orientation. It has come to describe an identity and a lifestyle. When someone says that they’re gay, or for that matter, lesbian or bisexual, they normally mean that, as well as being attracted to someone of the same gender, their sexual preference is one of the fundamental ways in which they see themselves.

And it’s for this reason that I tend to avoid using the term. It sounds clunky to describe myself as “someone who experiences same-sex attraction.” But describing myself like this is a way for me to recognize that the kind of sexual attractions I experience are not fundamental to my identity. They are part of what I feel but are not who I am in a fundamental sense. I’m far more than my sexuality. (10-11, emphasis original)

Do you hear what he is saying? Allberry argues that speaking of someone, specifically a Christian, as “gay” or “homosexual,” simply gives too much weight to just one aspect of what it means to be human, namely our sexuality. Sexuality is important, but biblically speaking a person’s sexuality is ancillary to who they are, not foundational and ultimate.

And what does Hill believe about all of this?

In fairness, I’m pretty sure he agrees with all of it. Yes, from the very beginning of his book he does use terms like “gay” and “homosexual,” or even “gay Christian” and “homosexual Christian,” but he also clarifies that he doesn’t mean what most might mean when using those terms. Let me quote him at length from pages 14-15:

My story is very different from the other stories told by people wearing the same designations—“homosexual Christian”—that I wear. Many in the church—more so in the mainline denominations than the evangelical ones… tell stories of “homosexual holiness.” The authors of these narratives profess a deep faith in Christ and claim a powerful experience of the Holy Spirit precisely in and through their homosexual practice…

My own story, by contrast, is a story of feeling spiritually hindered rather than helped by my homosexuality. Another way to say it would be to observe that my story testifies to the truth of the proposition the Christian church has held with almost total unanimity through the centuries—namely, that homosexuality was not God’s original creative intention for humanity, that it is, on the contrary, a tragic sign of human nature and relationships being fractured by sin, and therefore that homosexual practice goes against God’s express will for all human beings, especially those who trust in Christ. (14, emphasis original)

More sections from Washed and Waiting could be quoted to address terminology (especially on page 22), but the real question is this: why would Hill tend to speak this way?

I’ve listened to audio recordings where Hill answers this question explicitly. I’m thinking especially of a Q&A at a conference on human sexuality put on by the Evangelical Free Church of American where Hill was one of several keynote speakers (here). The answer to the question to why Hill speaks this way, in short, is this: to gain a hearing from those who would immediately tune him out if he telegraphed his traditional Christian moorings too soon with phrases like “same-sex attraction.” (And remember, in an above quote, Allberry admitted the phrase is a “chunky” one.)

As a pastor, I get this. As soon as I tell people that I am a pastor, the conversation invariably changes. To be aware of this dynamic does not necessarily mean that I am ashamed of my vocation or fearful of identifying myself as a follower of Jesus. I’m not ashamed or afraid. But I can say that in my own life I have learned that there can be a God-honoring motive in delaying the revelation that I’m a pastor. The same is true, I believe, for Hill. Using the terminology of a “gay Christian” is not a way to hide his Christian beliefs indefinitely, but rather a way to help them be heard.

Don’t Christians Change?

Before closing this issue of terminology, it might be helpful to back up and talk about what Christians mean and don’t mean by this word “change.” A few years ago, I remember talking with a mature Christian about this very issue. The person was initially very shocked and disturbed by the thought that there might be gay men and women who genuinely become Christians, but yet continue to struggle with same-sex attraction. This is a startling proposition, one that many Christians have never thought through before. “What—doesn’t becoming a Christian fix this?” some ask.

Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert An English Professor's Journey into Christian Faith

By Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

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Well, yes, it does, but that depends on what you mean by “fix” and what you mean by “change.”

Christians most certainly do change, but this doesn’t mean people live with perfect obedience to Jesus right away or that temptations to sin disappear. Consider for a moment sins like pride, heterosexual lust, or explosive anger. Do these fall away immediately upon conversion to Christ, or even shortly thereafter? Sometimes, but not most of the time. And in some cases the temptations never go away.

It can be jarring the first time you think of homosexual feelings this way, that is, as something that might not go away, at least until Heaven. However, when we consider the specific struggle with same-sex attraction in the broader context of the struggle that Christians have with all sin (which both Allberry and Hill do so aptly), it begins to make more sense.

This is not to say that no one will ever experience a fundamental shift in their attractions to the extent that they marry someone of the opposite sex. This happens. If you’d like to read a helpful account of this, you can do so in the book The Secret Thoughts of an Unlikely Convert by Rosaria Butterfield. For Butterfield, it happened. And when this kind of change happens, we should praise God for it. However, we should also be willing to heartily acknowledge that God can be—and is!—glorified in the life-long struggle to reject sin on account of the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus Christ. This certainly is a type of “change,” even if the final outworking of the struggle is not completed until we are glorified.

Final Recommendations

For all of the similarities of these two books, I hope you can see that they are actually two very different, but very helpful, books.

If you are a person that is less familiar with the issues involved, especially the issues around the biblical texts, then I would suggest you first read Is God anti-gay? The book is more than a primer on the topic, but it is a least that. If, however, you are more familiar with the issues, and are looking for more of a narrative sweep, then I would suggest Washed and Waiting.

But my hope is that you won’t simply choose between them, but rather read them both.

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A Conversational Ode to Christian Mothers

Last year, I broke an unwritten rule for preachers: on Mother’s Day, I did not preach a sermon that had anything to do with motherhood. For sure, there are worse crimes, but because it was my first Mother’s Day at a new church, I felt I needed to atone for my breach of etiquette. Therefore, I wrote the poem below and shared it at the beginning of my sermon. For your enjoyment, I’ve also included a few of the comments that I used to introduce and conclude the poem. Happy Mother’s Day, mothers. Thanks for all you do.

*     *     *

In honor of the women at church this morning, I have written a poem. I have no illusions that it will stand the test of time and become one of the great literary works of the century. It will not. However, I hope it blesses you. I’ve given it the ridiculously long title, “A Conversational Ode to Christian Mothers, Especially Mothers with Young Children.”

Mom, what are we doing tomorrow?
And then after nap?
And after dinner?
And after church?
And after Thanksgiving and Christmas?
Sweetie, we’re only in the month of May.
It should come more often, this Mother’s Day
Especially for how little the pay.

Mom, can I play at the park?
Can I come out of my room?
Can I go to Gretchen’s house?
Can I have a snack?
No, buddy, no. We just ate.
You’re going to have to wait.

Mom, my shoe’s untied?
My hair is tangled.
I think the little one has pooped.
Okay, okay. One thing at a time.

Hard to remember, I suppose.
When all there is are dirty clothes.
But there are rewards, are there not?
To see your children raised and taught.
To show them Christ, as he’s loved you.
To be there for all they go through.

Hard to remember, I suppose.
When baby has a snotty nose.
Remember this, when they are small
You are mother, but that’s not all.
Your children will help to shape you,
But your children do not make you.

The Target checkout lady knows your name
And so does God, and he even knows your shame.
And your pain, and he loves you all the same.
Because Christ has taken all of your blame.

That was my slightly humorous, and slightly serious, way to say this: Motherhood is a good thing, but it is not an ultimate thing; motherhood is important, but it is not everything. The best Christian mothers are the mothers who know that their children do not define them, but Christ does.

Maybe being a mom has worked out great for you and you will Skype with your children today. That’s good. But maybe being a mom hasn’t worked out so well—maybe you had miscarriages, or abortions, or children that got divorced, or maybe you never had any children. That’s hard, very hard.

I guess I would just say to all women here (especially to young mothers), that, in the Gospel, God loves you and “Christ has taken all of your blame.”

Mock Interview of Jacob and Esau from Genesis 33

Introduction

Last week, I wrote a post about the benefits of reading the Bible closely and how good preaching should model this. In this week’s post, I’m going to give an example of the types of questions I might ask of a passage (and the characters in it) when I am trying to read it closely. To do this, I’ve fashioned this post as a mock interview with the two main characters of Genesis 33: Jacob and Esau. In other words, if I was able to conduct an interview with these two men, what would I ask them, specifically, in light of the details listed in Genesis 33?

By way of background, in Genesis 33, finally, after many, many years, Jacob comes face to face with his brother Esau. Esau is the hairy-warrior-older-brother, and Jacob is the younger, softer brother who stole his older brother’s blessing. While it is fairly easy to get the big picture of Genesis 33, questions abound as to the motives involved. A few details make it seem as though Jacob’s motives we honorable, and other details seem to make them seem less so. The same is true of Esau. It’s difficult to know what to make of the two brothers. This interview is designed to sort out the ambiguity, at least as much as possible.

So, without further introduction, below are the questions I would like to ask Jacob and Esau based on the words of Genesis 33.

*     *     *

Mock Interview Questions for Jacob and Esau from Genesis 33

Genesis 33:1, And Jacob lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, Esau was coming, and four hundred men with him. So he divided the children among Leah and Rachel and the two female servants.

Esau, this first question is for you. Why exactly did you bring “four hundred men” with you to see Jacob? That’s a big posse to meet a guy with his family and some animals.

Later, as the story unfolds, it appeared that your intentions (at least in this encounter) were not to harm Jacob but to protect him. So, Esau, were these men really just there for protection, or were they also for influence and intimidation, you know, in case you didn’t like what you saw in Jacob?

Genesis 33:2, And he put the servants with their children in front, then Leah with her children, and Rachel and Joseph last of all.

Jacob, this question is to you. Why did you arrange your children and wives this way? Was it pure favoritism to protect the ones you love most? We know how you feel about Rachel.

Genesis 33:3, He [Jacob] himself went on before them, bowing himself to the ground seven times, until he came near to his brother.

Jacob, good work on going out in front alone to meet Esau. That was brave. But, why did you bow down seven times? I have read that it was an established sign of respect in your culture, but was it really respect coming from you to him? Was this a genuine plea for forgiveness that came from a repentant heart? Or, Jacob, was this all an elaborate plan with survival as the principal motive?

In the previous chapter, we read that you sent messengers to Esau to tell him you were coming (32:3), so I’m inclined to pick the former motive, namely genuine repentance, but which was it? Or maybe it was some of both.

Genesis 33:4, But Esau ran to meet him and embraced him and fell on his neck and kissed him, and they wept.

Esau, were you planning to react this way, or was it a spur of the moment thing?

Genesis 33:5, And when Esau lifted up his eyes and saw the women and children, he said, "Who are these with you?" Jacob said, "The children whom God has graciously given your servant."

Esau, I noticed that you asked a question to Jacob about the women and children. However, Jacob, you only responded to Esau about the children. Why? Is this significant? Was it because “wives” were a sore subject in your family? We know that you, Esau, back in Chapters 27 and 28, took “foreign wives” much to the disappointment of your mother Rebekah.

To the question again: Jacob, is this why you didn’t bring up your wives? Or maybe it was that you were embarrassed by the fact that you now, like your brother, had multiple wives and girlfriends?

Also, Jacob, here you spoke very humbly. For example, you spoke to your brother Esau as “your servant,” and later as “my Lord.” Jacob, was this the humility you learned over the years of hard labor and service to your uncle Laban, or was it an intentional projection of humility to win favor? Or again, could it be that it was some of both?

Genesis 33:6-7, Then the servants drew near, they and their children, and bowed down. 7 Leah likewise and her children drew near and bowed down. And last Joseph and Rachel drew near, and they bowed down.

Jacob, before this encounter, had you taught your children to bow down like this when they met someone of importance, the same way I might teach my children to look people in the eye and say, “Nice to meet you”?

Or, Jacob, are we reading about the result of very special instructions that you made to your family for this particular moment so that you could curry favor in Esau’s (potentially angry) eyes?

Genesis 33:8, Esau said, “What do you mean by all this company that I met?” Jacob answered, “To find favor in the sight of my lord.”

Again, Jacob, if I may, what do you mean with your answer to Esau’s question, “To find favor in the sight of my Lord”?

Are we talking about apologizing or trying to save your skin? If the latter, I’m not sure that would be terribly wrong. I totally understand that a father might have to be creative at times to protect his family from danger. Still, it would seem better if you were apologizing, at least in part.

Genesis 33:9, But Esau said, “I have enough, my brother; keep what you have for yourself.”

Esau, it seems that there has been a change in you since we last met you. Before, you were “consoling [yourself] with the thought of killing [Jacob]” (Genesis 27:42). What has happened during these twenty years while Jacob was away? Have you let “bygones be bygones”? Have you truly forgiven your brother? Or, are you so wealthy now so that losing the birthright turned out to be of no real consequence, at least financially?

Genesis 33:10, Jacob said, “No, please, if I have found favor in your sight, then accept my present from my hand. For I have seen your face, which is like seeing the face of God, and you have accepted me…

Jacob, I hear an allusion in the above comment back to your previous night’s struggle where you wrestled with a man all night, and the comment that you made that night, namely, “I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared” (Genesis 32:30).

So, Jacob, my question is this: what are you getting at by likening Esau’s face to God’s? Again, is this more flattery or is it sincere? It seems like you are probably very sincere, but I just have to ask.

Genesis 33:11, …Please accept my blessing that is brought to you, because God has dealt graciously with me, and because I have enough.” Thus he [Jacob] urged him, and he [Esau] took it.

Esau, I have heard that to accept a gift from someone in your culture meant that you were on good terms with the person who gave the gift. Was that what you meant by receiving this gift from your brother (or a better translation, this “blessing” from your brother)? Was this the sign that you two are now on good terms, at least you, Esau, are on good terms with Jacob?

Genesis 33:12, Then Esau said, “Let us journey on our way, and I will go ahead of you.”

Esau, why did you want your brother to come with you? Did you want to keep tabs on him? Did you just assume that he would have wanted to come with you? And here is the real question, was your amiable posture something that was going to continue once you got home? I am sure your brother was wondering this.

Genesis 33:13, But Jacob said to him, “My lord knows that the children are frail, and that the nursing flocks and herds are a care to me. If they are driven hard for one day, all the flocks will die…

Let’s stop here in the middle of this quote to talk about it for a bit.

Now Jacob, was this true? I understand you had been fleeing from your uncle Laban in haste for the last two weeks, but were the animals really on the brink of death? Could they have not gone on just a few more days? It’s hard for me to know, I wasn’t there and you certainly know more about animals than I do.

Or maybe something else was going on. Was it this: now that you and Esau had “kissed and made up,” was this statement about the animals really just a front to get Esau to leave without you? Maybe some of the stories you heard about Grandpa Abraham were bouncing around in your mind, stories about how he had to part ways with Lot (cf. Genesis 14).

Genesis 33:14, …Let my lord pass on ahead of his servant, and I will lead on slowly, at the pace of the livestock that are ahead of me and at the pace of the children, until I come to my lord in Seir."

Jacob, let’s talk about what you said here. Jacob, you said you were going to go to “Seir,” which is just south of the Promised Land, but that you would merely get there a little slower than Esau (e.g. “I will lead on slowly, at the pace of the livestock… [and] the children”). However, as the story goes on, we read that you don’t go to Seir. Jacob, at this point in the conversation with Esau, did you know that you were not really going to Seir with your brother? Or was that something you decided later? Did you have in your mind the command of God that you had recently received, which was to go to your homeland, not to Seir (Genesis 31:13)?

Or were you simply worried that Esau would change his mind, and when you got to your brother’s village, you were worried that Esau the “hairy-warrior-older-brother” would come back out, along with his four hundred armed friends?

Or maybe you did not want to go with Esau because—as we might say using the language of the New Testament—Esau was an “unbeliever” and you did not want to be “unequally yoked”? If that was so, why not just be upfront and honest with Esau? Were you scared? I understand if you were.

Or—and this is possible too—maybe you were not lying at all because you really did go to Seir, just at a later time and then only for short visits? I wouldn’t know if this was true because no visits are recorded in the Bible, but I guess you could have done so. I did notice that Moses, the narrator of Genesis, did not add an editorial comment to this part of the story as he did when you snuck away from Laban (Genesis 31:20, “And Jacob tricked Laban the Aramean, by not telling him that he intended to flee.”). So maybe this business of going or not going to Seir is not a breach of integrity. Still, I’m curious, Jacob, can you explain this to me?

Genesis 33:15, So Esau said, “Let me leave with you some of the people who are with me.” But he [Jacob] said, “What need is there? Let me find favor in the sight of my lord.”

Let’s go back to you, Esau. I asked this earlier, but I need to ask it again. Esau, why do you really want to leave these men with Jacob? Are they escorts for Jacob’s safety, or are they undercover agents to make sure Jacob and his family go where you want them to go? As before, I’m inclined to see benevolence in your actions, but Jacob’s reaction to your kind gesture concerns me.

Jacob, did you see something in Esau’s actions that I am not seeing? Were you trying to keep Esau’s men away because you didn’t want to be an inconvenience to someone you had wronged so deeply, or were you more concerned with not having Esau’s watch dogs—I mean his protectors—with you the whole time because you knew you were not actually going back to his home in Seir?

Genesis 33:16, So Esau returned that day on his way to Seir.

Esau, when you parted company, did you expect to see Jacob meet up with you a few days or weeks later? Or did you get the vibe from Jacob that he was not coming?

Genesis 33:17-20, But Jacob journeyed to Succoth, and built himself a house and made booths for his livestock. Therefore the name of the place is called Succoth. 18 And Jacob came safely to the city of Shechem, which is in the land of Canaan, on his way from Paddan-aram, and he camped before the city. 19 And from the sons of Hamor, Shechem's father, he bought for a hundred pieces of money the piece of land on which he had pitched his tent. 20 There he erected an altar and called it El-Elohe-Israel.

Jacob, I could be wrong, and I may not have all the facts; but, it sounds like from the end of this passage that you were not just making a quick stop on the way home but setting up camp for a decent length of time? Is this right? And if so, this is not at all the direction of Seir, right?

You seem to be headed home, but you didn’t make it all the way, did you? Did someone get sick? Or did the seasons change and the weather was no longer conducive for continuing travel?

Or did you simply find a place that you thought you could do profitable business and so you stopped?

I’m especially interested about the initial cause of this stop and why it was prolonged because of what happens in the next chapter. I hate even to bring it up, as I’m sure it’s still painful. This “pit stop” puts events in motion that lead to your only daughter, Dinah, being so horribly abused. Tell me Jacob, what’s going on?

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Epilogue

I first created this mock interview several years ago when I was interning with a church that was preaching expository messages through Genesis. It was there, that summer as an intern, that I fell in love with expository preaching—not as a listener but as a practitioner.

In the end, I’m not sure how either Jacob or Esau would answer each and every one of these questions, but I do think, for a few of the questions, we can come to reasonably good guesses. And, regardless of whether the questions can be answered or not, I certainly know the passage better for going through this exercise. This is part of what I mean when I talk of reading the Bible closely. And in a world of sloppy reading, good preaching should offer the fruit of a close reading of the Bible.

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In a World of Sloppy Reading

The Problem

We are inundated with information – billboards, commercials, cereal boxes, social media, and the deluge of emails. “Read me, read me—RIGHT NOW!” they shout.

So we do.

Well, sort of. Basically, we skim. We have to. Send me an email over 300 words, and it just sort of happens. I’m sorry, but it does. We look for key words; we look for headlines and block quotes; we look for text in bold.

We are teaching ourselves to read poorly. We cannot get the main point of an essay if we only read 25 words of the 5,000. And if I Google something complex and skim the search results – maybe even click a link or two (including the Wiki page, of course) – then I know “what’s what” right?

No, I don’t. And no you don’t either. We are kidding ourselves. As Tony Reinke has written:

Lit!: A Christian Guide to Reading Books

By Tony Reinke

Buy on Amazon

The Internet presents random fragments of information that flow at us in a stream—a Facebook status update, a new Tweet, even a random email—and attention gets chopped up into small, disconnected fragments throughout the day. The internet encourages superficial browsing, not concentration. (Reinke, Lit!, 141)

Might we even call this pull towards “browsing, not concentration,” a form of illiteracy – not the inability to see words and vocalize them, but illiteracy because we lack the ability to slow down, to digest, to process?

I’m sure researchers have studied this. Recently, for example, Desiring God released a large survey of how our smart phones and social media are changing us (the former: here and the latter: here). And while I’m not sure how I would quantify the type of illiteracy I’m talking about, I do know that I can feel it when I open my Bible in the morning to read. Too often I blaze through a chapter in the Bible at the same speed by which my thumb navigates my iPhone’s screen. This isn’t good. And too often, even when I put in the time, I get little out of it.

It’s into this type of world and this type of reading – a world of sloppy reading – that good preaching should offer the sweet fruit of a close reading of the Bible.

When I Say “Close Reading,” What Do I Mean?

Close reading (and close preaching) sees details, the leaves on the trees. But at the same time, close reading doesn’t become myopic. It keeps an eye on the forest, making the proper connections to broader themes. In other words, close reading sees the Big Story that contains all the little stories.

Close reading explores motive. It requires empathy. Yes, a character did X, but why did he do X? What was he after? Close reading, as one preacher has noted, asks what is the thing behind the thing?

Close reading attempts to understand unfamiliar words, strange concepts, and awkward sentence structures. Just what is that preposition doing there? And why is this word left out and that word included? Why did a character do what they did? Is there a cultural dynamic taking place that I need to become familiar with to understand this passage?

Close reading attempts to understand how the occasion behind the writing affects what is said and done (and what’s not said and not done). And what can we know of the events surrounding the passage that influenced the author to write what he wrote? For example, close reading considers things like what was going on with Israel when the passage was written. Was the passage before David or after? Before the exile of the southern kingdom or after? And in the Gospels, we might ask, where is Jesus at in his ministry? The beginning or the end? Is he in a Gentile region or a Jewish one? And of Paul’s letters, if possible, we might seek to place them in the context of his three missionary journeys recorded in Acts. And of Peter’s letters, we might ask if there was a specific emperor he had in mind when he says things like “honor the emperor” (1 Peter 2:17). (I personally think Peter had Nero in mind which influences how we read the passage.)

Additionally, close reading considers how a passage has been interpreted over time. If the passage is in the Old Testament, did any New Testament authors comment on it? And with an author like John, can we see any developments from his Gospel account to his epistles, which are generally understood to have been written later. And how has the passage been interpreted throughout church history? And how has contemporary scholarship challenged or affirmed traditional readings? Close reading asks questions like these.

The Harvest of Close Reading

These are just a few of the things to consider when reading the Bible closely. And this means that close reading is work – a lot of work. It takes time, concentration, and quiet. It is demanding. I know.

But in my experience, the harvest is worth it. The fruit is sweet, and it can feed people. It feeds me. And this is what good preaching does, or at least should do. It should feed people something worth eating.

By this, however, I do not mean that good preaching is a lengthy, boring presentation of the process of discovery. It’s not that at all. If it feels that way, I’m doing something wrong.

Consider the example of a farmers’ market. A farmers’ market doesn’t exist to lecture us on all the work that goes into growing a peach. Rather, it works like this. When you stop by a farmers’ market on a Saturday morning, what they are saying, in effect, is this:

Hey, here’s some good fruit for you to buy. Check it out. It took us awhile, but let’s not talk about that now. Just know we’ll be here every Saturday morning this summer with awesome produce.

We know it’s hard work running a farm; they don’t have to tell us that.

But Close Reading is Not Just for Preachers

Growing your own observations may feel overwhelming, but it’s the job of all Christians, not just the professionals. This is what it means to meditate on the Word of God.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. (Psalm 1:1-3)

I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways. I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word. (Psalm 119:15-16)

This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. (Joshua 1:8)

I think Jesus, at least in part, has scripture mediation in view when he tells us to love God with all of our “mind” (Matthew 22:37).

I suspect that if we did press a farmer at the market with some questions about the process of farming, they would tell us that we could do the same thing they are doing, that is, if we just had a little coaching.

They might say,

Oh, you’ll never have acreage and whatnot, but if you are motivated, anyone can grow a few tomatoes in their own backyard. It just takes time and practice. But you should do it. They’ll taste great, and this way, you’ll be more excited to share them with your friends and neighbors.

Sometimes preachers subtly communicate that what they are doing upfront could never be done by those in the pew. This is wrong. We preachers are supposed to “equip the saints for the work of the ministry” (Ephesians 4:11-12), which, at a minimum, must include helping others grow their own fruit, their own observations about the Bible. If we are not doing this, the Bible might as well be in Latin and we might as well be pre-Reformation priests.

Good preaching then, like a farmer at a farmers’ market, should commend the fruit to others – the fruit of a close reading of the Bible. Just think of what the other extreme is. God forbid we preachers should posture ourselves as magicians holding on to our secrets. And, God forbid our published sermon notes would have a footnote that reads:  “Professional driver on a closed course. Do not attempt at home.” May it never be! Rather, the subtext to good preaching should say:

Hey, taste this. Isn’t it good? It took me a while, and I had to pay close attention, but I’m so happy it feeds you. And, oh by the way, I think you could probably do this at home too. Let me help you see how.

Some Tips on Growing your Own Fruit

If your life is inundated with words and information, if your reading looks more like skimming than reading, you are probably normal. But normal means that this skimming probably creeps into your Bible reading as well. And a great enemy of careful, fruitful observation is when sloppy reading becomes habitual.

We.

Have.

To.

Slow.

Down.

I don’t know how much you currently read your Bible. Let’s just say you read four chapters a day. (I pick that because that’s the pace to read the Bible in a year.) If this is you, maybe take a month to not read four chapters a day. Instead, just read four verses, maybe from a Gospel or a New Testament letter. And then do it again the next day – the same four verses. And then, read them the next day too. And the day after that. Write out the questions you have about the passage. Pick up a study Bible and read the entries. Pray. Read the verses again. Pray. Read them again. List your observations. Ask more questions. Why is that word used? Why would the person in the story do what he or she did? What is the thing behind the thing? Do this, not in one day for fifteen-minutes, but do it for two weeks, fifteen minutes each day.

This is hard work; I know. It takes time, concentration, and quiet.

But eating a Honeycrisp apple straight from the tree, a tree you planted and watered and weeded and pruned, is worth it. You’ll taste the difference, and you’ll probably want to share it with your friends.

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MOM ENOUGH edited by Tony and Karalee Reinke (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Tony and Karalee Reinke (editors). Mom Enough: The Fearless Mother’s Heart and Hope. Minneapolis, MN: Desiring God, 2014. 120 pp. $7.99.

Being a mom is a wonderful but difficult job. Too often Pinterest does in subtle ways what Victoria Secret does overtly—crush women under the weight of airbrushed unrealities.

But it’s not only Pinterest and Victoria Secret that can inflict damage. Sometimes damage comes from other moms. Innocent playgroups turn into competitions over who has the perfect, God-ordained way of preparing organic, gluten-free, low-carb snacks. And sometimes damage can even come from the Bible, or, at least, from the mishandling of it. For example, Proverbs 31—a chapter that celebrates women and mothers—can be (mis)taught so that it becomes just another crushing airbrushed unreality.

This is why I’m so thankful for books like Mom Enough: The Fearless Mother’s Heart and Hope edited by Tony and Karalee Reinke. It doesn’t make this mistake. Mom Enough doesn’t crush; it gives wings.

When I bought Mom Enough, I knew it was a collection of short essays from various women, all published authors. However, when I received the book and read in the preface that each entry was originally a blog post for Desiring God, I was a little disappointed. I love the ministry of Desiring God, but at first I was annoyed because the last book I read like this (blog posts turned into a book) was lousy. Mom Enough, however, is not lousy. It’s excellent. As soon as I finished the book, I bought three more to give away. And with Mother’s Day coming next month, there is still plenty of time for you to get several copies to do the same (here).

The title Mom Enough is taken from one of the book’s essays of the same name, which in turn, is a callback to the Time magazine article from the summer of 2012 that had those words on its cover. If you saw that cover, you’d remember it; it pictured a woman breastfeeding a toddler that looked like he was about a year away from kindergarten.

In the book, author Rachel Pieh Jones pointedly describes the “mom enough” battle.

From television, Facebook, blogs, and Pinterest, the message screamed at moms is this: unless you are fit to run marathons, breastfeed into the preschool years, own a spotless and creatively decorated home, tend a flourishing garden, prepare three home-cooked meals per day, work a high-powered job, and give your husband expert, sensual massages before bed, you are not mom enough. (Rachel Pieh Jones, Mom Enough, 19, emphasis original)

But Jones is waving the white flag.

From my perspective, however, the Mommy War is over. Done. Finished. Kaput. And I lost. I am not mom enough. Never was, never will be. (19-20)

Yet quitting the “mommy war” does not mean she is ceasing to fight.

But I am on the frontlines of another war. The battles are raging and the casualties could be my children, my husband, or myself. This war isn’t about me being mom enough. This war is about God being “God enough.” (20)

And this war—the fight of faith to believe that God is an all-satisfying fountain of joy and big enough and caring enough to help us in our daily lives—is a war that began long ago. This war started in a garden when a serpent implied that God wasn’t God enough and when Adam and Eve believed they would be happier if they went their own way.

Right now, my wife is pregnant, which I know is a difficult season for all women, but it is especially so for my wife. No, she won’t spend the entire time in the hospital (Lord willing), but during past pregnancies, we have certainly made a few visits for extreme dehydration because of constant vomiting. My wife is a warrior, that’s for sure. I try to help her as best as I can, but what Mom Enough reminded me is that what my wife needs most—and what I believe all Christians need most (mothers or not)—is to know that in the midst of the battle, God is always God enough.

Lessons about Writing from Three Dribbles and a Jump Shot

A Metaphor

Three dribbles, one jump shot. That’s all.

That’s all that it takes for me to know if someone can play basketball or not. I don’t even have to see if the ball goes in the hoop. It’s mostly irrelevant. How did he catch the ball? How did she dribble it? And what of the shooting form? Was it graceful? Did the technique exude good coaching? You can judge these things quickly.

I know this sounds arrogant; it’s just true.

What I am not saying is that I can know if someone could play (or did play) basketball at the college level. That’s more specific than curb appeal shows. But immediately, I can rule the possibility of college ball “in” or “out.” And I suspect real coaches of the game, those in the business (which I am not), only know this more, not less.

And I suspect this is true in writing.

A Case Study

The other day I was reading a book and came across an epigraph (a brief quotation at the start of a book or chapter to suggest theme), and I knew immediately: “This author can ball.”

The quote was originally from an essay in Time about birth control, specifically, the Pill. The quote reads:

The 1950s felt so safe and smug, the ’60s so raw and raucous, the revolution stacked one on top of another, in race relations, gender roles, generational conflict, the clash of the church and the state—so many values and vanities tossed on the bonfire… the pill became the Pill, the means by which women untied their aprons, scooped up the their ambitions and marched eagerly into the new age. (Nancy Gibbs, “The Pill at 50,” Time; quoted by Denny Burk, The Meaning of Sex, 138; ellipsis by Burk, emphasis mine)

It’s only 69 words, but it’s enough to know Nancy Gibbs can play the game.

Does her whole article cohere? Does her analysis remain fair and equitable, avoiding straw men? Does her prose adequately deal with the personal vestment and intimacy that comes with a topic like birth control? Does her… jump shot go in the hoop?

I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

Here, we only have three dribbles and a jump shot, and our back is to the basket. But you can see it, can’t you? She can play.

Consider just two lines. First, “raw and raucous, the revolution stacked one on top of another, in race relations, gender roles.” The alliteration of the letter ‘r’ six times subliminally “stack” even as she makes the point that the ’60s stacked on the ’50s.

Second, look at the line “so many values and vanities tossed on the bonfire...” Again, there is subtle alliteration of ‘v’, but notice the concreteness of the fire metaphor: it’s not just a fire, but a “bonfire” in all of its communal, rebellious, and wild connotations (i.e., the ’60s).

For fun, and to test my suspicions, I read the whole article. It’s almost 5,000 words. While knowing nothing of her broader career, I can confidently say that my suspicions were true: Nancy Gibbs can write.

And if I can see this, as a novice, I’m sure those in the business can as well, only better.

An Objection

But perhaps aspiring writers, like myself, may protest to the standard process(es) of publication – the pressure to impress with only a very small sample size.

The objection might go like this:

Query letters to publishers and agents are so short, and in such formulaic, expected structure. And then what of the proposal letter – don’t they need the whole novel, not just a few chapters, to see my awesomeness?

Shouldn’t they watch a whole game, or at least see me dribble around the court for a while, maybe show off some fancy ball handling? Look now – I’m a Harlem Globetrotter.

Nope. They are professionals.

Not perfectly of course – mistakes can happen – but professional agents, editors, and publishers probably know in just a few paragraphs whether a writer has game.

The takeaway for me is twofold.

1. Practice, Practice, Practice

We have to learn the game, and learn it well, before trying to play it on center court. We must work on mechanics, and know the basics of a chest pass. We have to play some pickup games. And every once in a while, sure, we can try a fancy crossover; it’s just practice. But for the most part, we must master the basics.

We must learn the rules for commas and colons. And learn when a semicolon is appropriate and when it’s just being pretentious. Learn how to use indirect quotes and direct quotes. Write some poems and a short story—or write two stories, or maybe twenty. And we need to find some good coaches too, people who can teach me things I do not know, people who can push us beyond my limits, people who can encourage when needed and critique carefully, seeing the typos and the logical fallacies. In other words, we need to practice, practice, practice.

2. Learn to Reverse Engineer

Here’s another takeaway for me: Read (broadly) those that do have game, and then learn to reverse engineer their product.

Reverse engineering is the process of disassembling something and analyzing its components. It means tearing apart something that works and figuring out why it worked in the first place. Steven Pinker, in his recent book on writing (The Sense of Style: the Thinking Person’s Guide to Writing in the 21st Century), writes:

The starting point for becoming a good writer is to be a good reader. Writers acquire their technique by spotting, savoring, and reversing-engineering examples of good prose. (12)

Practically speaking, with respect to writing, reverse engineering would mean that when you and I find a striking paragraph, we should pause. Study it. Ask why we liked it so much and what it was doing to achieve its effect. We should disassemble some of it. We should ask if form matches function (e.g. stacking the letter ‘r’)? Or do the connotations of specific words match the overall point (e.g. bonfire)? In other words, start with the end product and go backwards.

If we do this, eventually, with lots of practice, when we shoot the ball it will be more likely to go in the hoop.

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FUTURE MEN by Douglas Wilson (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Douglas Wilson. Future Men: Raising Boys to Fight Giants. Moscow, Idaho: Canon Press, original 2001, revised 2012. 199 pp. $15.00.

Sometimes I am proud of myself. I’m proud because in the morning I woke up on time, put on my pants, read my Bible, and went to work. Then after work, I come home to the same woman I left in the morning—the woman I love and that loves me. Also, I played with my children and we ate dinner together. I’m proud because throughout the day I was—by most standards—a decent citizen, father, and husband. From pants on to pants off, I did a few things that are commendable.

Then I re-read Future Men by Douglas Wilson, and I remembered that the bar is higher, much higher. Biblical manhood is like a book on the very top of a giant bookshelf in the library—you know, the shelves that need a ladder to be reached, and when someone actually does reach them, the books are dusty through neglect. That’s like biblical manhood.

Future Men: Raising Boys to Fight Giants

By Douglas Wilson

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Yet I should be clear: it’s not just Wilson that sets the bar high. In the best possible way, Wilson and Future Men are derivative. In Future Men the Bible sets the ideal first. And just as in the Bible, Future Men is not merely full of unattainable ideals. The book is also full of empowering grace—a ladder, if you will—to reach up to the top shelf.

However, just because I’ve likened Wilson’s vision of biblical manhood to an old, dusty book, don’t expect old-fashioned, prudish advice. In fact, Future Men offers scriptural counsel that is hard to label, hard to classify. Let me give an example of what I mean. In the chapter on “Christian Liberty,” Wilson underscores that liberty is not merely freedom from something. In other words, because I have “liberty,” now I don’t have to do X, Y, or Z. Rather, true liberty is not only from something, but also for something, and in the Christian context, Wilson says, liberty is “for holiness.”

The end or purpose of Christian liberty is not to smoke or drink; liberty is given for the pursuit of holiness. Those who wave the banner of Christian liberty so that they might do whatever they might want to do have not understood the doctrine at all. The point is not to drink or smoke or dance according to your own whims, in the light of our own wisdom, but to do whatever we do before the Lord, with the increase of joy and holiness obvious to all. (77, emphasis original)

Okay, Wilson, liberty is for holiness; I get it.

But then, however, this same chapter concludes with a quote about parents teaching their children to drink alcohol:

But with all this said, wine was given to gladden the heart of man (Ps. 104:15), and one of the duties a father has is that of teaching his son to drink. (81, emphasis original)

See what I mean? It’s hard to label, hard to pin down. Liberty is for holiness, but fathers should teach their sons to drink (in a way that brings glory to God, no doubt).

Thus, Future Men is a lot of things, but one thing it is not, is predicable. (As an aside, a few years ago, I was at a Desiring God Pastor’s Conference where Douglas Wilson was a keynote speaker. In one Q&A, do you know what Wilson told John Piper that he would like to see more of at Desiring God and more of in Piper’s theology of “Christian Hedonism”? Answer: Wilson said, I’d like to see more “beer and bratwursts.” The more familiar you are with these two men, the funnier that quote is.)

Future Men covers topics from sexual sin to money; and doctrinal meat to friends; and formal (Christian) education to effeminacy. Throughout the whole, readers will find zero footnotes and only passing references to other sources, which is actually a fresh treat to those that read a lot of non-fiction. But this (i.e. having no footnotes) doesn’t mean Wilson is not listening to the conversations of the world; he is. He’s simply not telegraphing it.

If I was to offer a critique of the book, at several points the topics seemed packed more tightly than the space allowed. This was especially true of Chapter 15 (“Fighting, Sports, and Competition”), which felt rushed and crammed.

One other thing to mention: Wilson is feisty, and at some point in the book, I promise you’ll be offended. It might even happen several times. That’s good; it means you hold your opinions strongly enough that you can recognize when they’re being critiqued. The real question, however, is a fundamental one: What do we do with our offenses? Are we humble and honest enough to investigate the scriptures to see if we are wrong? Or are we only looking to books, any books—the Bible included—to merely see our own convictions reaffirmed?

No surprise here, the echo-chamber approach has problems. But, for those who need a reminder that “the bar” of biblical masculinity is high—and reaching up to it is always a supernatural endeavor through the grace of Jesus Christ—Future Men provides this kind of reminder.

*     *     *

A Favorite Passage from my Favorite Chapter

“In C. S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, we are given a good example of a boy who was brought up poorly. Eustace Scrubb had stumbled into a dragon’s lair, but he did not know what kind of place it was. ‘Most of us know what we should expect to find in a dragon’s lair, but as I said before, Eustace had read only the wrong books. They had a lot to say about exports and imports and governments and drains, but they were weak on dragons.’

“It is a standing rebuke for us that there are many Christians who have an open sympathy for the “true” books which Eustace read—full of true facts about government and rains and exports—and who are suspicious of great works of imagination, like Narnia stories, or The Lord of the Rings, or Treasure Island, because they are “fictional,” and therefore suspected of lying. The Bible requires us to be truthful above all things, they tell us, and so we should not tell our sons about dragon-fighting. Our sons need to be strong on drains and weak on dragons. The irony here is that the Bible, is the source of all truth, says a lot about dragons and giants, and very little about drains and exports…”

“Christians are a race of dragon-fighters. Our sons are born to this. Someone ought to tell them.” (Wilson, Future Men, “Giants, Dragons, and Books,” 101, 107, emphasis original)

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Spring Loaded Camming Devices and The Expository Sermon

Picture yourself rock climbing. The sun shines and sweat drips from your forehead. You’re fifty feet above the ground on the side of a rockface. Your arms burn. You keep dipping your sweaty hands in the bag of chalk that hangs from your belt as though that will make climbing easier. Of course, you expect some measure of difficulty—you’re rock climbing after all. But when your pulse begins to climb too high, you pause for a moment to catch your breath. For the first time you glance down. Woah—it’s a long way to the bottom.

But then, as you reach for the next handhold, your right hand slips off the rock. Oops, you think.

Suddenly your right foot slips too. Double oops!

Now you cling with only your left hand and left foot; your body swings out from the rockface like a barn door on hinges. Your thoughts flash to the last anchor you set in the rock. How well did I place it? Will it hold me if I fall?

Climbing as a Metaphor for Life

This situation is a lot like life. You are working hard and go about your days with some sweat on your forehead, or at least under your arms. The kids get the flu, work requires overtime, and drama flares up with your in-laws. But you expect these sorts of difficulties and take them in stride.

Then the CFO of your company announces a plan to “re-organize.” Your job, your income, your livelihood slips away. It’s fine, you think. I can deal. I’m still holding strong. But then your wife says, “Honey, I think I found a lump on my breast.” Now both a foot and hand have slipped off the rockface, and you barely hold it together. Your body swings like a door on hinges dangling above danger. Woah, it’s a long way down.

As a teaching pastor, I think about these types of situations often. And not only has rock climbing become a helpful metaphor for the way I consider life, it’s become a helpful metaphor for something I try to accomplish in my preaching.

But let me back up for a moment.

Lead Rope vs. Top Rope Climbing

There are two main ways to rock climb. Well, I suppose there is a third way, the way of Alex Honnold  free soloing up El Capitan, but let’s not count that as a “way” others should imitate. The first way I have in mind requires using “Spring Loaded Camming Devices,” or just “cams” for short. When you climb with cams, you wedge your own anchors in the rock as you climb up the rockface or you use anchors previously placed by others. They call this type of climbing lead rope climbing, as opposed to top rope climbing. In top rope climbing, your harness is attached to a rope that is looped through an anchor at the top of the climb, hence the name. However, when you climb using cams (lead rope climbing), there’s no anchor fixed at the top of the climb; there are only the cams placed in the rock as you climb.

Therefore, in the event of a fall while lead rope climbing with cams, you don’t need a dozen superficial anchors. Each anchor must count. Each anchor must be firm and deep into the rock. A chintzy fastener placed casually won’t do the job; it won’t take the force of an unexpected fall. Anchors improperly set, even if you have a dozen placed every two feet, will pop under the weight of your fall. Instead, you need just one quality cam wedged into a crevice. Just one cam will hold you when you fall, that is, if it’s properly set.

Deep Anchors and The Expository Sermon

For me, rock climbing with cams is a metaphor for preaching. Too often in sermon preparation I feel the pressure to say everything about everything. But there is only so much time in any given sermon, and a dozen random comments—all true enough—are like chintzy fasteners. They simply won’t hold when hardships cause our faith to slip.

Instead, I want my preaching each week to set just one anchor deep into some aspect of who God is and what he has done, is doing, and will do for us in Christ. People on the face of a rock—people who could lose their grip at any moment—need the stability offered in gospel preaching. I need this in my life too.

Don’t misunderstand me, though. I know sermons do not save people or keep us saved any more than a cam by itself keeps climbers safe. But what that anchor can do, and what a sermon should do, is keep people firmly attached to the rock, or in my metaphor, The Rock. Stability and joy and life are offered to those securely attached to the rock.

Why the Expository Sermon?

Implications of this metaphor extend to how we organize our worship services, attempting to link the themes of sermons and the themes of our liturgy and song. Additionally, consider how this metaphor might challenge Christians to attend church with greater frequency; if you miss chances to insert anchors, you might fall a dozen or two dozen feet before you stop, which breaks bones.

But I want to zero in on preaching. This metaphor is a large part of why I favor the type of sermons we call “expository.” Expository is a term preachers use from time to time, but we rarely explain what we mean by this term. At The Gospel Coalition’s 2011 National Conference, in one of the panel discussions there was a great conversation about preaching generally and the expository sermon specifically (here). In that discussion, Pastor Mark Dever succinctly described expository sermons like this: “In expository sermons, the main point of the Scripture passage is the main point of the sermon.”

That’s simple enough. I like that definition: the one main point of the sermon comes from the same one main point of the Scripture passage. To me, that definition sounds remarkably similar to what I mean when I say that each week’s sermon should put just one anchor in The Rock—deeply and properly.

Don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m not saying a topical sermon is inherently a chintzy anchor. If you ask me, when done well, a topical sermon has the potential to affix our hearts more deeply to an aspect of the gospel than an average expository sermon. But to also be candid, I don’t have the ability to preach deep topical messages week in and week out. I find preaching good topical sermons overwhelming, and I also find them disconnected from the way most Christians read their Bibles.

I realize that many people who read this blog are not preaching pastors. However, perhaps you occasionally have the opportunity to lead a Bible study of one kind or another. I’d encourage you to consider how “making the main idea of the Bible passage, the main idea of your lesson” might strengthen your lesson by giving your lesson focus.

This article isn’t the place for describing all of the tools pastors use to find the main point of a passage. How to find the main point of a passage in light of what God has done for us in Christ would require another article. But once I find the main point of a passage, my next steps in sermon preparation attempt to mold every aspect of the sermon—the outline, the explanations, the illustrations, the applications, and so on—to serve this one end, that is, serve the main gospel point of the passage. When you and I do that as we teach, I think we can rightly call our lessons and sermons “expository.”

And when we teach the gospel like this week in and week out, we will provide our people with firm and deep anchors to the only Rock who can save us.

[Update: an original version of this article appeared on May 17, 2015 but was updated in January of 2020; Image]

LIT! by Tony Reinke (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Tony Reinke. Lit!: A Christian Guide to Reading Books. Wheaton, Illinois: Crossway, 2011. 208 pp. $15.99.

A few years ago, Tony Reinke wrote a great book about reading called, Lit!: A Christian Guide to Reading Books. But let me say at the start: the thought of reading a book written about the topic of reading books was a strange thought. But an even stranger thought was writing a book review of a book about how to read books. That proposition made me feel like I was standing in front of a mirror—holding another mirror. So, I’m not going to do a long review here. Instead, I’d like to offer a “miniature memoir” about why I found Lit! tremendously helpful and why I think other people will too.

From Blended Wheatgrass to Strawberry-banana Smoothies

In college, I studied Mechanical Engineering. I chose this major for three reasons. First, my father is an engineer, and so it was familiar. Second, I was pretty good at math and science. Third—and this might be the most important reason why I chose engineering—I hated to read and write. Hated it!

Lit!: A Christian Guide to Reading Books

By Tony Reinke

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But maybe this feeling isn’t so uncommon. Reinke writes, “For most, reading is like trying to drink down a huge vitamin” (15). Imagine that!—drinking a tall, chalky glass of Flintstones. And, with only a few exceptions, that is what reading was like for me.

Then things changed. God took hold of my life in a powerful way. The specifics of why and how the change occurred I will leave for another day, but I should say this part now: when I began to understand God’s love for me through Jesus, I also began to realize something else, namely, Christians read the Bible, and they read lots of other books too.

This, as you can imagine, was a difficult transition for me, especially as I began to feel called into full-time ministry. For instance, when I started seminary, I struggled with the demands to read and write. I think that is true for most seminary students, but I know that I certainly felt behind. And, if I am honest, not only did my enjoyment of reading lag, but also my ability. I just wasn’t very good at it. And, even today, I wouldn’t say that I’m great at it.

However, after lots of practice—much of it forced upon me by seminary and pastoral ministry—I can honestly say my frustration with drinking down vitamins has grown into love.

A Little Summary

Now enter Reinke’s book. The subtitle, A Christian Guide to Reading Books, was just the type of thing I needed. I bought it on a table at The Gospel Coalition’s national conference in 2013, but unfortunately, as books tend to do, it sat on my shelf for a year and a half before I read it. Now, however, I wish I had read it sooner.

Lit! is set up in two parts. The first section is a theology of books and reading. In the opening chapter, Reinke explores the fundamental distinction in literature. He writes:

Somewhere around 1450 BC, on a remote Egyptian mountaintop called Mount Sinai, an author wrote something so earth-shaking that the publishing industry has never recovered. It never will. (23)

Reinke is talking about the Ten Commandments, and, of course, the author is God. Using this moment in history as a starting point, Reinke goes on to argue that there are really only two genres of literature: Genre A: The Bible, and Genre B: All Other Books (27). Borrowing words from Charles Spurgeon, Reinke frames the distinction pointedly: there is the gold bar (the Bible) and the gold leaf (everything else). Only the Bible is—in the most ultimate sense—“inspired,” “inerrant,” “sufficient,” “supreme,” and “offers us a coherent worldview” (25).

Some people, because of their high view of the Bible, are tempted to conclude that we should never read anything but the Bible. This makes some sense, right? We all have limited time, so why not make the most of our time: read the best and forget the rest?

Reinke disagrees, however. Those “other books,” the gold leaves, matter too; they have much to offer. I do not think Reinke actually uses this phrase, but we might say there is a feedback loop between the Bible and other books, especially the good ones. This feedback loop works in such a way that by reading both (the Bible and other good literature) our reading of both is enhanced.

This is where the second half of Lit! comes in, namely, practical advice on reading. Reinke is asking questions like this:

If we are going to read things other than the Bible (which he says we should), then how do we maintain the primacy of the Bible?

And if we read other books, how do we know which books? There are so many. As Solomon said, “Of making many books there is no end” (Ecclesiastes 12:12).

And once we have picked which books, then what steps can we take to read them well?

These are good questions, and Reinke gives good answers to them.

So Why Not Launch a Book Club?

As I read though Lit! in the fall, I was encouraged to try something we’ve never done at our church before. This year, I’m teaming up with my co-pastor to lead a book club. For this first year, we picked eight novels, books like Of Mice and Men and Pride and Prejudice. Our first meeting was last weekend—The Great Gatsby.

I suppose I probably should have already read most of these books, perhaps even in high school. But this is what I’m trying to say; I’m playing catch up. And as I attempt to make up for lost time, books like Lit! have been so helpful.

*     *     *

A Few Favorite Quotes

“In non-Christian works we discover what is so close, and yet so far away, from what we read in the Bible. The challenge is to make use of the ‘so close’ for our edification and for the glory of God while being aware of the ‘yet so far.’” (Reinke, Lit!, 77)

“The imagination-stretching images [especially in books like Revelation] are God’s way of sliding the spiritual defibrillator over the slowing hearts of sluggish Christians. The images are for Christians who are growing lazy and beginning to compromise with the world, Christians who are allowing their hearts to become gradually hardened by sin. The answer is a spiritual shock. It is God’s way of confronting worldliness and idolatry in the church. When idolatry begins to lure the Christian heart, God reaches into our imagination with images intended to stun us back to spiritual vibrancy … [Thus] to view imaginative literature as a genre fit only for the amusement of children is an act of spiritual negligence.” (Reinke, Lit!, 88-9)

“The rewards of reading literature are significant. Literature helps to humanize us. It expands our range of experiences. It fosters awareness of ourselves and the world. It enlarges our compassion for people. It awakens our imaginations. It expresses our feelings and insights about God, nature, and life. It enlivens our sense of beauty. And it is a constructive form of entertainment.” (Reinke, Lit!, 128)

Related Post

In my first blog post I interacted with Reinke’s podcast Authors on the Line. You can read that post here, Fresh Words, Fresh Language, Fresh Blood.

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Reflections on The Bachelor

Our kids were misbehaving last night, so they got sent to bed early. It probably was not the best use of our time but since my wife and I had extra, we decided to flip the on TV. Among a few other things, we watched twenty minutes of The Bachelor. I had heard about The Bachelor, but it wasn’t quite what I had imagined… it was far worse.

On last night’s episode, the protagonist and Iowa farmer Chris Soules, had already narrowed the women down from thirty to just three. Now he was to take each on a final date in the country of Bali. Pretty exotic, right? And with these last dates came the famous overnighters in the Fantasy Suites, of course fitted with votive candles, four-poster beds, and bathtubs filled with rose petals.

At first, for me, there was a humor to it all. I couldn’t take it seriously. As Whitney talked with Chris on a massive sailboat on the Indian Ocean, and the camera repeatedly offered close-ups of Chris as he listened to her drone on and on about her sister’s reservations about their potential marriage, I provided my own commentary for what Chris might have been thinking.

But the more I watched, the more painful it became. I kept thinking to myself, how is it that this show is tolerated by women? It’s so offensive to them!

I felt this all the more because just before The Bachelor, we caught a few minutes of an Oscar recap show, and several times we saw a clip of Patricia Arquette passionately appealing for wage equality for women, to which the crowd—especially a few prominent women—enthusiastically applauded. I understood Ms. Arquette to be making the point that women should be honored and treated fairly. I’m not a huge fan of the celebrity soapbox, but to me this sounded like a noble enough talking point, and apparently the audience thought so as well.

Why do I bring this up? Generally speaking there are healthy, although sometimes overdone, voices in culture rightly challenging all of us to treat women with dignity. Which is why, I say again, I can hardly believe a show like The Bachelor—a show that denigrates women and turns their beauty and sexuality into a competition—is tolerated.

But then I realized something: The Bachelor is not tolerated, it’s loved. Case in point: if you count all the various renditions, the show is in its nineteenth season.

As television shows do, before each commercial break, The Bachelor kept showing upcoming scenes hoping that viewers would keep watching. The particular teaser that was on repeat last night was a short clip of Becca, the third woman, explaining to Chris as they were about to enter the Fantasy Suite that she was a virgin.

I was done. I couldn’t take it.

It’s common to hear people speak as though we in the modern world have the moral high ground on those in the past, particularly those in what we might call “primitive” cultures. I’m thinking especially of our tendency to learn about strange, cultic sex practices in ancient cultures and think that we have improved morally. But when I watch The Bachelor and consider its popularity, I say no way. It would seem to me that we can be every bit as far from God’s design as those of the past. Our culture, like those of other eras, has a schizophrenic view of sex: we both over and under value it. We say sex has tremendous meaning, even an ultimate meaning for our lives. And at the same time we say it is meaningless—something cheap and casual.

But it’s not that I’m so upset with culture at large; that’s not where my confusion is mostly directed. What I cannot understand is the show’s popularity among Christian women.

Perhaps, however, some of my sisters in Christ will object: Benjamin, you can’t possibly tell the quality of a show by just watching twenty minutes.

Maybe. But what if you saw me in a public place, say a Starbucks, reading the latest edition of Sports Illustrated, which just so happens to be the swimsuit issue with its typically provocative and demeaning pictures. Would it be appropriate for someone to say to me, as a Christian man, that what I was doing was wrong? Or couldn’t I object and say, But you’re only judging by a quick glance and that’s not fair; there are some good articles in this.

Here’s the deal: sometimes you don’t need all the context. Sometimes it’s the whole context that lulls us to sleep. Sex is a gift from God. And as such, we ought not to overvalue it as though it were a god, but neither should we undervalue it either. After nineteen seasons, I’m glad I’ve only seen twenty minutes. And thankful they’ll be, God willing, my last.

[Image: Craig Sjodin/ABC, from The Washington Post]

Burning Hearts: Preaching to the Affections by Moody and Weekes - A Review

Josh Moody and Robin Weekes. Burning Hearts: Preaching to the Affections. Christian Focus, 2014. 144 pp. $11.99.

[Note, this book review was published on The Gospel Coalition's website.] 

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Do you remember those arcade games with a mechanical bar that slides back and forth, continually nudging a huge stack of coins that rest on a shelf? You “play” the game by dropping in coins and hoping the mechanical bar will nudge the stack in such a way that some fall off the ledge. Most of the time, though, little or nothing happens. 

These tiny nudges always remind me of preaching, whether the granular nudge of individual words or the aggregate nudge of the completed sermon. The more I preach, the more I long to make each nudge count and move people toward conformity to Christ. In Burning Hearts: Preaching to the Affections, Josh Moody and Robin Weekes argue that we make our sermons and our nudges count by preaching to the affections... [Continue Reading]

THE GRAVE ROBBER by Mark Batterson (FAN AND FLAME Book Reviews)

Mark Batterson. The Grave Robber: How Jesus Can Make Your Impossible Possible. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2014. 288 pp. $22.99.

Mark Batterson’s latest release is The Grave Robber: How Jesus Can Make Your Impossible Possible. His other books include In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day and The Circle Maker.

In Grave Robber, he explores the seven “signs” (i.e., miracles) that Jesus performs in the Gospel of John (the seventh sign is the raising of Lazarus from the dead, hence the title). In the process of exploring these signs, Batterson engages many of the other miracles recorded in the Bible, as well as sharing stories of miracles from our own day.

The Grave Robber: How Jesus Can Make Your Impossible Possible

By Mark Batterson

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There are many things to appreciate about the book. For example, the way Batterson packed the book with illustrative anecdotes, both from popular history (e.g. baseball, war, politics, music and the arts, science, etc.) and from what I’ll call, “life in the local church” (i.e. personal testimonies of hardship and miracles from Batterson, his church, and many other people he knows or knows of).

I also appreciated the clever phrasing throughout the book (a favorite: “the water blushed” referring to the first sign). And I appreciated the strong admonitions Batterson included in Chapter 15 towards generosity, which he grounded in the generosity of our God.

As for improvements, I’ll offer a few. First, some have pointed out that there are not seven signs in John, but eight, with the resurrection of Jesus being the final one (not the large catch of fish, 163). Batterson could have made the final chapter on this eighth sign (the resurrection of Jesus), but that might be too much to ask. I’m not sure I should be telling another author how to finish their book. However, a passing reference to it would have been fitting.

Second, often Batterson’s exegesis is careful and leads to fruitful observations (e.g. the disciples had rowed to the middle of the lake, 187; the text does say that Lazarus had his grave clothes on which, indeed, must have been a sight when he came out of the tomb, 237). However, a few times Batterson drifts toward cliché. For example, he repeats this phrase several times: “God won’t answer 100% of the prayers you don’t make.” That sounds like the Wayne Gretzky quote about missing 100% of the shots you don’t take. Related to this, at times the exegesis should be more careful. For example, when speaking of the two-stage healing in Mark 8 of the blind man, he writes:

Remember the story of Jesus healing the blind man with mud? It’s one of the most encouraging miracles in the Gospels because it took two attempts. Even Jesus had to pray more than once! (94, emphasis added)

Jesus “had to pray more than once”? Okay, Mark, can we word this a little more carefully? I hope it is only a poor attempt at humor. If this were true—that Jesus’ prayers were not 100% efficacious—it would not be encouraging at all.

Aside from these critiques, The Grave Robber is an encouraging book for believers—Jesus stole Lazarus’ body from the grave, and one day, he will steal ours too (John 5:28-29; 11:25-26).

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Three Favorite Quotes

“The focal point of the fourth miracle is Jesus feeding the five thousand with five loaves and two fish. Of course, whoever dubbed it the feeding of the five thousand shortchanged Jesus. There were five thousand men. So the total head count was probably closer to twenty thousand men, women, and children. Jesus didn’t pull a rabbit out of a hat. He pulls out twenty thousand fish.” (Batterson, Grave Robber, 136, emphasis original)

“A member of our prayer team recently told me that we had thirty documented healings at National Community Church year-to-date. I was absolutely ignorant of that fact. And ignorance is like a lack of oxygen—it asphyxiates faith. That’s why we need to share testimonies! Hearing a testimony is the way I borrow faith from others. Sharing my testimony is the way I loan my faith to others. If we aren’t sharing testimonies, we’re cutting off circulation to the body of Christ.” (Batterson, Grave Robber, 150, emphasis original)

“Trust me when I say that God cannot and will not be bribed or blackmailed. You cannot play Him like a slot machine. If you give simply because you want to get something in return, you forfeit your down payment. You can’t play the game that way. We invest in the kingdom of God because it’s the right thing to do and it nets the best return on investment. Nothing beats compound interest for eternity! But if you give for the wrong reasons, you’re disqualified.” (Batterson, Grave Robber, 158-9)

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A Parsimonious Worldview

“Parsimonious” means being frugal to the point of stinginess. It means you believe that if you open your hand to give something away, then you’ll never get it back. So you keep the fist closed—nothing gets out. But there’s a negative flipside—nothing gets in.

A parsimonious worldview is like when my youngest daughter insists on going to bed with multiple pacifiers—a backup for a backup for a backup for a backup. The other day, I saw her walking around the house with one pacifier in her mouth, two in one hand, and three in the other. That’s six pacifiers! Just in case, I suppose. But don’t laugh; adults do the same thing, it just looks differently.

The world God has made is not a parsimonious world. Christians, of all people, should know this. God created the world not out of need, necessity, and deficit—but overflow. God didn’t need, he overflowed. And believing this (or not believing this) affects how you live, which in turn, of course, affects how you write.

Therefore, if you think of a gem of a phrase, metaphor, sentence, or paragraph, then give it away. Don’t go walking around with one pacifier in your mouth and five others in your pocket—just in case. Yes, storage and planning are commendable things, but when we hoard, we say something about our view of the universe and the God who created it.

Last week, I shared some writing tips from Anne Lamott, and one of them touched on this very point. She wrote, “If you give freely, there will always be more.”

This week, I thought I’d share an extended quote from Douglas Wilson, a favorite author of mine. In the quote, he says a similar thing. Enjoy.

Excerpt from Wordsmithy by Douglas Wilson

“If a striking expression hits you, don’t hold back just because you are writing an email to your sister. If you think, ‘I need to save that kind of thing from my memoirs,’ you are a stingy writer with a heart like a walnut and you won’t have any memoirs to save it for. Who wants to read the Memoirs of Old Walnut Heart?

Wordsmithy: Hot Tips for the Writing Life

By Douglas Wilson

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“Writing ability is a developed and honed skill, and the more you develop and hone it, the more that you will have. Writing as well as you can in every setting is the way to have reserves to draw on when it comes to writing for publication. Pianists don’t have a limited number of C major chords they’re allowed to play in the course of their lives. They aren’t afraid of running out.

“Writing is not a zero-sum game, and so you shouldn’t be afraid of using up all of the colorful adjectives. Extending yourself in any situation is the best way to be able to extend yourself in every situation.

“Zero-sum thinking is the result of people thinking that God is parsimonious. A bigger piece of pie here means a smaller piece of pie there. But our world is a world in which pies grow and those who give are those who receive back again…

“There are two basic approaches to life—one in which the world is a world of scarcity, given to us by the skinflint god, and the other in which the world is a world of endless possibilities, bestowed on us by a loving Father. Guess which world is more conducive to works of real and lasting imagination.” (Wilson, Wordsmithy: Hot Tips for the Writing Life, 83-4, emphasis original)

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4 Writing Tips from Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird

Twenty years ago, Anne Lamott published Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. Today, it still sells like hotcakes. For the record, I’m not sure why we say “hotcakes” sell so well, but I am sure that Lamott would tell me to drop that cliché from my prose. Regardless, here are four quotes which I found provocative and helpful as I read her thoughts on the craft.

1. On the ethical, passionate center of your life and your writing:

Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

By Anne Lamott

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“If you find that you start a number of stories or pieces that you don’t ever bother finishing, that you lose interest or faith in them along the way, it may be that there is nothing at their center about which you care passionately. You need to put yourself at their center, and what you believe to be true or right. The core, ethical concepts in which you most passionately believe are the language in which you are writing.” (103)

2. On writer’s block:

“We have all been there, and it feels like the end of the world. It’s like a little chickadee being hit with an H bomb. Here’s the thing, though. I no longer think of it as block. I think that is looking at the problem from the wrong angle. If your wife locks you out of the house, you don’t have a problem with the door. The word block suggests that you are constipated or stuck, when the truth is that you’re empty.” (177-8)

3. On not saving your “best” stuff for another day:

“Annie Dillard has said that day by day you have to give the work before you all the best stuff you have, not saving up for later projects. If you give freely, there will always be more. This is a radical proposition that runs so contrary to human nature, or at least contrary to my nature, that I personally keep trying to find loopholes in it. But it is only when I go ahead and decide to [go all-in] on a daily basis that I get any sense of full presence… Otherwise I am a weird little rodent squirreling things away, hoarding and worrying about supply.” (202)

4. Writing overcomes isolation:

“Becoming a writer is about becoming conscious. When you’re conscious and writing from a place of insight and simplicity and real caring about the truth, you have the ability to throw the lights on for your reader. He or she will recognize his or her life and truth in what you say, and the pictures you have painted, and this decreases the terrible sense of isolation that we have all too much of.” (226)

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The Chemical Reaction that Was, and Is, my Calling to Preach

It’s an odd shift from Engineer to Preacher, some might say. And I suppose they could be right. It has often felt strange to me as well. When I was eighteen years old and thinking about college majors, I was far more interested in thermodynamics than homiletics. In fact, I didn’t even know what homiletics was.

So how did it happen—how and why did my interest change? Well, I’m not actually sure I will ever know all of the factors that went into the transition. In my mind, sometimes I think of it like a chemical reaction. Chemical reactions can be strange things. Sometimes two ingredients that are unreactive by themselves, when combined, become explosive, especially when mixed vigorously. And now that I have had a decade to reflect on my transition from engineer to preacher, I think I know a few of the ingredients that became the unexpected chemical reaction that was, and is, my calling to preach.

My call to preach came, in part, through doing it—the infrequent opportunities to speak here, lead a Bible study there. And that makes sense; it’s a natural progression, I suppose. Someone sees something in you—some gifting, some potential—and eventually they ask you to give it a try. And it goes okay and you learn, and eventually someone asks again and you get another try. And then another. So, yes, I would say, in part, my call to preach came through doing it and the encouragement I received during those early years.

However, in large measure, my call to preach came not through doing, but having it done to me. What I mean is that the call to preach seemed to pounce on me, irrevocably so, while listening to other men preach and feeling my mind and affections doused in a kind of spiritual kerosene so that I just knew I wanted to, in fact had to, be involved in doing this for others. During the early days of this feeling, if I could have “hit pause” during a sermon by any one of a number of gifted preachers I was listening to in those days, I think I would have described the experience this way:

What God is doing right now, through that guy, on that stage, behind that pulpit, as he explains that passage, with those words and those gestures, and that tone, and with all of that love and passion and urgency, such that my heart is prodded and my mind is riveted—well someday, I just have to be involved in sharing that with others.

This is what I mean when I say that my calling to preach came not only through opportunities to preach, but also, even predominantly, through having it done to me. As I think back to the sermons that I was listening to in those days, I would say that this type of preaching made me say in my heart, “Yes! I want more of Christ; and our God is wonderful; and I’m so thankful for the Gospel; and now I too want to speak, and risk and serve and love and give my life for this Gospel.”

And this “reaction” to preaching still happens for me. Good preaching doesn’t get old. Still, as I listen to others preach (“that guy, on that stage, behind that pulpit, as he explains that passage…”), it still awakens longings.

So when people ask me why an engineer would ever become a preacher, I think they typically want a “sound bite” answer. And I’m not sure how to give them that. Someday maybe I will figure out how to do that. For now, I suppose that I could just say that it had (and has) something to do with vinegar and baking soda, corked and shaken.

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