Aug
2
John Stott’s Classic: The Cross of Christ
Posted by Champ Thornton at 2:13 pm
With the news of John Stott’s death last week, Justin Taylor blogged about what many consider the significant book to come from Stott’s pen: The Cross of Christ.
J. I. Packer writes of this work, “This, more than any book he has written, is his masterpiece.”
This 380-page book usually costs around $17, but, thanks to a special deal arranged by Tim Challies, you can download the audio book version (read by Simon Vance) for only $2.98 at christianaudio.com.
On his blog Tim Challies explains the details: “If you’d like to read along, Christian Audio has put the audio book on sale for just $2.98 until October 31. Use coupon code CH0811CC. Click here to order it.”
Aug
1
John Stott (1911-2011)
Posted by Champ Thornton at 4:52 pm
Last week, on July 27, John Stott, at the age of 90, passed into the presence of the Lord. Uncle John, as he was endearingly called by those who knew him, was a prolific writer, faithful pastor, and global evangelist for the cause of Christ.
My own growing familiarity with John Stott began about seven years ago, as I was preparing a series of messages on the letter to the Ephesians. His short commentary on that letter was easy to read and quite helpful to me.
About that time, I read this article about Stott, which introduced me to the soul-enriching prayer which he would pray upon rising each morning. I hope you will take time to memorize and make it your own. However, it was not until reading his, Christian Mission in the Modern World, that my appreciation for him bloomed.
In my limited reading of Dr. Stott’s writings, I came to see how adept he was at providing simple, yet useful categories for understanding complex truth. For a wonderful sampling of his writings, may I recommend Authentic Christianity edited by the author of Stott’s two-volume biography, Timothy Dudley-Smith? This 426-page compilation is “an anthology of the best from John Stott’s writings, from memorable epigrams to penetrating argument. It is a rare blend of godly wisdom and spiritual truth–theology in the finest sense–not to be devoured in haste but to be savored, pondered, remembered, and shared” (from the back cover).
Although this book appears to be out of print, you can receive a daily excerpt via email by signing up for “The Daily Thought” at the Langham Partnership website (John Stott Ministries in the US).
May
7
unidentified object in sky
Posted by Champ Thornton at 9:02 am
May
3
this says it all
Posted by Champ Thornton at 6:27 am
Apr
25
John 20
Posted by Jon Trainer at 11:20 am
What if we just ended the book of John at 19 chapters? What kind of a story would we have if we lopped off the last 31 verses and pretended the epilogue in chapter 21 was a much later addition and never really intended to be a part of the book? What would we have left?
We would have a book that begins in the broadest and most timeless scene imaginable–before the foundation of the world—in the beginning was the Word, but that ends in the narrow confines of a dark tomb in an obscure city on the far flung reaches of Roman occupied territory.
We would have a text that opens with the heraldry of a forerunner declared to be the greatest man born among women—John the Baptist, but that ends with a pack of disciples scurrying off silently or amidst loud cursing denials into the night like a flock of scattered birds chased by a hissing cat.
We would hear the clarion announcement of this forerunner that he is not worthy to loose the latchet of Jesus’ sandal, but end with Jesus’ own people crying out for a known insurrectionist, Barabbas, to be set free and him, Jesus, crucified.
We would commence with the promise of a light that intends to shine into every shadowy corner of the world and even penetrate the darkness of men’s hearts, but that dies extinguished in the oxygen-less confines of a cave-like tomb.
We would begin with the Word in the very presence of God, but end in God forsaking and being forsaken on the cross.
We would acknowledge with the author that God is the maker of all things, but then be dumbfounded to discover that the very creatures God has made have risen up to slay their own creator on a tree, the molecules of which are held together by the sheer power his own will. The world turned upside down.
We would read of the promise to Nathaniel that he is sure to see the heavens opened and the angels of God descending and ascending upon the Son of Man, but end with heaven sealed shut against the spectacle of the cross and only the carrion fowl of earth ascending and descending upon the carcasses of the two thieves hung between heaven and earth.
In short…if we end the gospel of John at chapter 19 verse 42, we end in despair.
In the face of death, it is easy to despair.
In Lament for a Son, Nicholas Wolterstorff a former philosophy professor at Yale, writes with startling transparency of the inner warfare that consumed him after the tragic death of his 25 year old son, Eric, in a mountain climbing accident in Austria. Wolterstorff writes…
Born on a snowy night in New Haven, he died twenty-five years later on a snowy slope in the Kaiserbirger. Tenderly we laid him in warm June earth. Willows were releasing their seeds of puffy white, blanketing the ground. I catch myself: Was it him we laid in the earth? I had touched his cheek. Its cold still hardness pushed me back. Death, I knew, was cold. And death was still. But nobody had mentioned that all the softness went out. His spirit had departed and taken along the warmth and activity and, yes, the softness. He was gone. “Eric, where are you?”
What if we could write our own ending to John’s Gospel? What would we include? How about thunder—make it booming; lightning—yes, the brightest of flashes, and a mighty earthquake as the stone rolls back from the tomb—of course. Push the soldiers down into the earth. Angel hosts—please, give me lots. And let the transformed disciples march like a triumphant army back into Jerusalem’s mighty gates with Jesus at the fore. Let trumpets and drums and every living creature and even the inanimate rocks cry out with joy that He is risen! And a little vengeance on the cruel perpetrators of this ultimate act of creaturely rebellion would be nice to see as well. Let schadenfruede have a place at the table in my resurrection story.
But alas, John will have none of it. No army, no mighty host of angels, no crashing waves of conquering cacophonic noise. Instead we get a little flock of sheep…appearing individually, then in a pair, then a small group huddled in fear because of rumors of wolves, and finally a single obstinate ram who will only go his own way.
Look, here comes the first one through the early morning darkness. Mary Magdalene is not who you would pick if you are trying to impress anybody about the reality of a resurrection. As a woman in this culture her testimony is not credible. Her emotional condition is not stable. She is so fixated by grief she is unable to grasp what has actually happened or move forward in her perceptions of reality. At the sight of an empty tomb all she can do is run to tell Peter and then off to John’s place to inform him that THEY have taken away the Lord—another cruel twist of the knife in her heart. Afterward, she is so lost in confusion and despair she cannot see, really see, angels dressed in white when they are talking to her. Woman, why are you weeping? It is a gentle rebuke. THEY have taken away my Lord. Mary the conspiracy theorist.
Wolterstorff: Suddenly here he is again. The chain of suggestion can begin almost anywhere: a phrase heard in a lecture, an unpainted board on a house, a lamp-pole, a stone. From such innocuous things my imagination winds its sure way to my wound. Everything is charged with the potential of a reminder. There’s no forgetting. Innocent questions make me wince. “Will the family all be home for Christmas?” What am I to say? “Yes,” I say, “We’ll all be home.” “What are your children doing now?” I go down the list: Amy, Robert, Klaas, Christopher. But I omit one. Do I call attention to the omission or do I let it pass? “How many children do you have?” What do I say, “four” or “five”? “Five” I usually say. Sometimes I explain, sometimes I do not.
Mary turns and He is there. And the shepherd/gardener asks her the same question. Why are you weeping? Sir, if YOU have taken him away, tell me where you have laid him. Well, he really is the gardener and he is about to plant a seed in her heart. Jesus is the shepherd-gardener, and he knows this sheep, and she is his, and he calls her by name…Mary! And the sheep know his voice. And she responds, “Teacher! Master!” And overcome with the reality of Jesus before her she throws herself at him.
But something has changed. This is not the same Jesus. This is the resurrected Lord in the process of ascending to the Father. Stop clinging to me. Don’t hold onto me so. “Strange words for a strange moment (Wright).” She is not to relate to him in terms of past experience but as the one who has come from the Father and is now returning to him. He is to be clung to as the way, not the end. Though his task is completed in making God known, the hour is not yet complete. The fruits of his glorification are yet to appear, for he has not yet fulfilled the promise of returning to the Father. Believers relate to him now, not as one with them in the flesh, but as one for them in the realm of the Father, to give them power to become the children of God.
And Jesus gives her a mission. She is to be the first apostle to the apostles. She is to announce this new relationship. Not simply disciples. Not simply friends. But now brothers and sisters with the same Father. The family dynamics have changed.
Now look, here come two more sheep as the dawn breaks. Mary has told Peter and John of the empty tomb and off they run. Mary has run and now they run. There is more running here than in all the gospel accounts combined. And they run and they run. And John, for we assume him to be the one Jesus loved, reaches the tomb first and stooping in sees the linen clothes lying there. But he reverently waits for the older man before going in. Peter comes along and boldly crashes into the empty tomb. He sees the linen clothes and the napkin for the head lying there. Something is going on here. Mary is right. We can’t help but think of Lazarus’ resurrection. But that is so different. Lazarus comes out of the tomb and needs unwrapped. Jesus is gone. And it looks like he folded his clothes before he left.
Wolterstorff: We took him too much for granted. Perhaps we all take each other too much for granted. The routines of life distract us; our own pursuits make us oblivious; our anxieties and sorrows, unmindful. The beauties of the familiar go unremarked. We do not treasure each other enough. He was a gift to us for twenty five years. When the gift was finally snatched away, I realized how great it was. Then I could not tell him. How can I be thankful in his gone-ness, for what he was? I find I am. But the pain of the no more outweighs the gratitude of the once was. Will it always be so? I didn’t know how much I loved him until he was gone. Is love like that?
At this point, John, comes in behind Peter and takes in the whole scene. And he gets it. He doesn’t quite understand what it all means. He can’t quote chapter and verse and link what he is seeing to specific prophecy yet, but he believes. There is a seedling of faith planted by the gardener in his heart too. The Father and Jesus are drawing him to themselves. But empty tombs only take so long to explore. What else to do? Nothing for the moment. They go back to their homes. And we are left to wander about Peter’s faith. Did he see what John saw? Does he believe? There are loose ends here.
Now look, here is a little bunch of sheep huddled together for protection against their predators. Locked in a room, they somehow feel secure against the dark powers that have crucified the Lord of glory. Their world is not changed.
Wolterstorff: It’s the neverness that is so painful. Never again to be here with us—never to sit with us at table, never to travel with us, never to laugh with us, never to cry with us, never to embrace us as he leaves for school, never to see his brother and sister marry. A month, a year, five years—with that I could live. But not this forever. I step outdoors into the moist moldy fragrance of an early summer morning and arm in arm with my enjoyment comes this realization that never again will he smell this.
But suddenly Jesus, the shepherd is there. He announces Peace! He shows them his hands and his spear-wounded side. He is the same one that was on the cross! And the shackles of their former world fall off; the walls of their Jericho come tumbling down! And they are glad.
Wolterstorff: For a long time I knew that God is not the impassive, unresponsive, unchanging being portrayed by the classical theologians. I knew of the pathos of God. I knew of God’s response of delight and of his response of displeasure. But strangely, his suffering I never saw before. God is not only the God of the sufferers but the God who suffers. The pain and fallenness of humanity have entered his heart. And great mystery: to redeem our brokenness and lovelessness the God who suffers with us did not strike some mighty blow of power but sent his beloved son to suffer like us, through his suffering to redeem us from suffering and evil. Instead of explaining our suffering God shares it. But I never saw it. Though I confessed that the man of sorrows was God himself, I never saw the man of sorrows. Though I confessed that the man bleeding on the cross was the redeeming God, I never saw God himself on the cross, blood from sword and thorn and nail dripping redemption into the world’s wounds.
But Jesus does not allow them to spend over much time reveling in the great transformation. The Father’s mission, already begun in him, must be completed by them—these fearful sheep. So send I you. Remaining in the locked room is no longer an option. They must move beyond the doors locked by their fears and into a world loved by God. They are to be to the world what Jesus has been…witnesses and agents of the opened heaven…here is the Spirit to announce the good news that the lamb of God has carried away the sins of the world. They can live beyond the disbelief, betrayal, and failure of their former lives. Now….announce with authority that for those who believe their sins are forgiven, but for those who do not believe their sins will condemn them. “The transformation worked in the disciples becomes the source of transformation in others. Through the forgiven God works to forgive.”
Look now, here is a single, skeptical sheep named Thomas. He has not encountered Christ. He does not have the witness of Mary. The promise of the Holy Spirit has not been breathed upon him. He will not believe the disciples. He simply was not here. But he does have his own set of criteria. The words of others simply will not do. He lives behind his own set of locked doors. A week passes. Nobody has ever seen God, but what does it look like when Jesus declares him? This it what it looks like: Suddenly, a smiling? Jesus comes just as he has done before and names his sheep—Thomas! I’ll meet your criteria. Here are my hands; here is my side. Touch. Thrust. The word has truly become flesh. Thomas truly beholds his glory. And now we have come full circle. My Lord and my God! This is not the tiny world of what is mine with its limited expectations and restrictive conditions…unless I see I will not believe (unless you tell me why Lord). Jesus pronounces a blessing on those who do not rely on any individual vision, but on the scriptures, the spirit, and on those witnesses associated with the Spirit in testifying to the truth. We see Jesus in the wider word on which pure faith relies and we cry My Lord and my God!
Wolterstorff: “Put your hand into my wounds,” said the risen Jesus to Thomas, “and you will know who I am.” The wounds of Christ are his identity. They tell us who he is. He did not lose them. They went down into the grave with him and they came up with him—visible, tangible, palpable. Rising did not remove them. He who broke the bonds of death kept his wounds. To believe in Christ’s rising from the grave is to accept is as a sign of our rising from our graves. If for each of us it was our destiny to be obliterated, and for all of us together it was our destiny to fade away without a trace, then not Christ’s rising but my dear son’s early dying would be the logo of our fate. Slowly I begin to see that there is something more as well. To believe in Christ’s rising and death’s dying is also to live with the power and the challenge to rise up now from all our dark graves of suffering love. If sympathy for the world’s wounds is not enlarged by our anguish, if love for those around us is not expanded, if gratitude for what is good does not flame up, if insight is not deepened, if commitment to what is important is not strengthened, if aching for a new day is not intensified, if hope is weakened and faith diminished, if from the experience of death comes nothing good, then death has won. Then death be proud. So I shall struggle to live the reality of Christ’s rising and death’s dying. In my living, my son’s dying will not be the last word. But as I rise up, I bear the wounds of his death. My rising does not remove them. They mark me. If you want to know who I am, put your hand in.”
Here is where John wanted us to wind up all along–in a confession of Jesus as Lord. This is the purpose of the gospel and it is the purpose of this book. It is both evangelistic and edifying. Believe and keep believing. Don’t have a nostalgic fix on the way things were, or a hopeless cry for the way things could have been, but move on to greet the things that are to come where Christ is seated at the right hand of the Father in glory.
See what is here for you. Jesus knows his sheep individually and by name. He knows the emotions and circumstances that engulf you at this very moment. The risen Christ comes to you via the Word and the Spirit and appears in the midst of your heart cry. And he asks you to believe and keep on believing. It is the desire of God to transform you, to liberate you from the shackles of sin, unbelief, despair, and a self-centered existence. To send you out a messenger of life into the world. To fill you with the certain hope of his resurrection.
Wolterstorff: It’s been a year now since I last saw this small patch of earth. Then it was piles of dirt and a hole. Now I can scarcely tell. He was sealed—no, his body was sealed—in a zinc box. How do the worms get in? Or do we each provide our own worms, carried along inside us? The bones will last a long time, and I suppose the clothes. I had gone through his closet and picked out a shirt and pants in his favorite colors. I imagine some of it was artificial fiber, and that lasts, doesn’t it? I suppose the buckle on his belt will last a long time, too. Shoes? No, they gave me his shoes. He doesn’t have shoes on. I wonder how it will all go when God raises him and the rest of us from the dead? Giving us new bodies seems no great problem. I suppose if he can create he can recreate. I wonder if it’s all true? I wonder if He is really going to do it? Will I hear Eric say someday, really now I mean, “Hey dad, I’m back”? [And then I hear the voice of God] “But remember, I made all this, and raised my son from the dead, so…” Okay. So goodbye Eric, goodbye, goodbye, until we see.
Apr
22
Earth Day = Good Friday + Easter
Posted by Champ Thornton at 8:37 am
Today is Earth Day. This celebration, begun in 1970 and embraced today by 175 countries, “is intended to inspire awareness and appreciation for the earth’s natural environment.”
Yet this year alone has seen Mother Earth rise up and kill thousands of her “children,” with the death toll from the earthquake in Japan alone reaching approximately 14,000! How can we celebrate a planet full of such suffering and futility?
Two words: Good Friday. The story of the Bible is the drama of recreation through Jesus Christ. The paradise of the Bible’s opening chapters is lost and will be restored (and even improved: from localized garden to worldwide city). (The following table, adapted from these two sources, shows how the Bible ends in completion of its beginning.)
Only what Jesus did on Good Friday (and Easter) will set all things right again. Jesus took human suffering and evil on Himself, and took it all the way to the grave. Then leaving it there, He rose as the first bloom of the renewed creation to come.
So as Christians we celebrate Earth Day in hope of an earth restored because of what Jesus did on Good Friday and Easter.
Jan
19
God of Liberty (3)
Posted by Jon Trainer at 9:14 pm
In the second chapter of God of Liberty: A Religious History of the American Revolution, Thomas S. Kidd, a history professor at Baylor, demonstrates that religion freedom was not par for the course in colonial America. It required the strange amalgamation of evangelicals, Enlightenment liberals, and deists to break the state church stranglehold of the Anglicans in the north and the Congregationalists in the south and usher in religious toleration.
Interestingly enough, Kidd paints the Baptists as the early heroes in this story. Regarded as a “radical evangelical sect” by the established state churches, the Baptists are despised for their emphasis on conversion, credo-baptism, religious enthusiasm, and separation of church and state. Kidd does not spare the Baptists the darker colors in his work, however, as an assortment of mystics, enthusiasts, and extremists blemish the sectarian landscape. Through the middle of the eighteenth century the Baptists, along with other groups such as the Quakers and Catholics, are persecuted and driven from states like Virginia and Massachusetts. While men such as James Madison and Thomas Jefferson do not align themselves with the theology of the Separatists, they nevertheless know wrong when they see it and become advocates of religious liberty.
The winds of the Enlightenment blow the air of liberty across the ocean and the fires of the Great Awakening burn in evangelical hearts. While the establishment churches believed “religion was so important that it demanded state support,” the dissenters thought “the church was so sacred that state support would soil it.” The Founders sided with the dissenters, not because their hearts had been necessarily touched by the gospel fire, but because they did not believe government should persecute believers for their religious convictions. Religious liberty meant no official state churches, no religious taxes, and no religious tests for public office. Kidd points out that current thinking about the relationship between church and state–that it is to be private, personal, and apolitical–would be foreign to these initiates.
Jan
17
on civility…
Posted by Jon Trainer at 9:45 pm
This column by David Brooks on civility, which he penned light of recent events in Tucson, reminded me of Stephen Carter’s book entitled Civility: Manners, Morals, and the Etiquette of Democracy (Harper, 1998). In it, he argues that politics and morality are always at war. I particularly like this quote:
Conservatism teaches us to worship our property, liberalism teaches us to worship our rights. Both teach us to worship ourselves, but neither one teaches us to yield our own desires for the sake of others. So where do we go to learn the language of sacrifice? In a nation where both discourse and behavior are dominated by the political ethic of victory-at-any-cost and the market ethic of getting-mine, where do we learn to put aside our own desires and even needs for the sake of the larger good? By now, the answer should be obvious, even if controversial: We go to our churches…. In short, we go to God (p. 96).
Jan
14
God of Liberty (2)
Posted by Jon Trainer at 12:23 pm
In the first chapter of God of Liberty: A Religious History of the American Revolution, Thomas S. Kidd, a history professor at Baylor, begins to unravel some of the intertwined roots of early colonial religious and political thought. A people whose ancestry is directly traced to the conflict between Catholicism and Protestantism in 16th century Europe, who have thrown off a tangible remnant of that oppression in the defeat of the French in the Seven Years’ War (1754-1763), and who are stirred by the revival fires of a Great Awakening, are open to the “apocalyptic possibilities” of what appear to be providentially designed political events. The clarity by which these patriot eyes see the invisible hand of God is a bit unnerving to modern ears, but resonates in some contemporary circles where unfolding events are always indicators of the last days:
“Antichrist must fall before the end comes….The French now adhere and belong to Antichrist, wherefore it is to be hoped, that when Antichrist falls, they shall fall with him” (Theodorus Frelinghuysen, chaplain during Seven Years’ War).
“…the grand decisive conflict between the Lamb and the beast” (Samuel Davies, a Presbyterian pastor in Virginia describing the Seven Years’ War).
“…it is by the convulsion of nations that Antichrist must be destroyed, and the glorious kingdom of Christ appear” (Isaac Watts on the possibility of war with France).
“…of its being a day of great things, and of the wonderful works of God in this part of the world” (Jonathan Edwards on the defeat of the French at Louisbourg).
“Divine Providence in favor of the Protestant apostolic religion and the cause of liberty” (Arthur Dobbs, North Carolina governor on the fall of Spanish-held Hanava, Cuba).
“…that victory was gained over the beast, and over his mark…[and] we can yet buy and sell without the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name” (a report from a crowd of colonists in Connecticut celebrating the repeal of the Stamp Act of 1765).
“The world, the flesh, and the devil, have always maintained a confederacy against [liberty], from the fall of Adam to this hour, and will, probably, continue so till the fall of Antichrist” (John Adams on the struggle between liberty and tyranny).
The colonist’s rhetoric communicates rebellion against both political and spiritual tyranny.
Jan
6
God of Liberty (1)
Posted by Jon Trainer at 1:50 pm
In God of Liberty: A Religious History of the American Revolution, Thomas S. Kidd, a history professor at Baylor, lists five religious ideas that Americans of various theological and a-theological stripes held in common during the latter half of the eighteenth century:
1. the disestablishment of state churches
2. the concept of a Creator as the guarantor of fundamental human rights
3. the idea of original sin
4. the recognition that sustained virtue was prerequisite to a sustained state
5. the belief that God–or Providence was actively involved in history
Kidd argues the general tenets of this “public spirituality” held together a deist like Thomas Jefferson and a populist Baptist evangelical preacher such as John Leland, even though Jefferson denied the deity of Christ and Leland confessed, “My only hope of acceptance with God is in the blood and righteousness of Jesus Christ.” Leland preached before the president and a joint session of Congress just two days after sending Jefferson a congratulatory 1,235-pound block of cheese emblazoned with the moniker, “Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.”
Know any pastors that have mailed cheese to Washington lately?
Dec
15
a story worth retelling
Posted by Champ Thornton at 8:52 am
In a recent blog post, Jim Hamilton, who is a professor at Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY, related the following story of an event which happened at this year’s Evangelical Theological Society (ETS).
Here’s an anecdote from the recent ETS meeting in Atlanta: Andy Naselli was presenting his paper, and at the beginning he very humbly noted Grant Osborne’s presence in the room. Andy greeted Osborne, told him that he loved him, and told him that with all due respect his presentation was arguing against the position that Osborne has espoused in print.
So here is a Andy, who is about 30 years old, arguing against Osborne’s position. I don’t know Osborne’s age, but he has probably been teaching longer than Naselli has been alive! At the end of Naselli’s fine presentation, Osborne raised his hand to comment. I would imagine that at that point Andy felt a bit nervous. With remarkable humility, Osborne told Andy that he had convinced him.
Andy thanked Osborne for his example of humility and kindness, and Osborne commented that this instance proves that in order to write you have to be willing to be wrong.
I relate this episode to note the power of humility. Osborne’s willingness to change his mind in light of the evidence doesn’t make me want to read him less but more! Those who can change their minds can learn, and those who can learn can teach.
Nov
25
Turkey Day
Posted by Champ Thornton at 3:44 pm
With delicious (and unintentional) irony, Operation World’s website lists the following country for prayer on this Thanksgiving Day, November 25: Turkey. May the Lord continue to spread the Good News among the people of that land.
To learn more about this helpful and newly updated guide to praying for the peoples of the world, click here. To join the over 90,000 people who have purchased a hard copy in the last month, click here (Operation World’s store) or click here (amazon.com).
Aug
4
from one illegal immigrant to another
Posted by Champ Thornton at 6:37 pm
A Christian is a human being who seeks permanent residence in a distant Homeland though he intrinsically lacks right or title to it. There is a legal outrage to making sinners into citizens of the Kingdom of God, to seating outcasts around the table of Christ. As believers we are all illegal immigrants, welcomed Home by the grace of our Savior.
Missionary David H. cuts to the quick of popular, conservative American culture.
Instead of seeing this issue [of illegal immigration] as an opportunity to reach lost people, we are forming and fueling strong negative feelings against immigrants by spending more time listening to unregenerate radio personalities than meeting actual people from all over the world, praying for them, and telling them about Jesus. Shame on us.
Read the entire post here.
HT: DtG
Jul
5
Tact and Contact
Posted by Champ Thornton at 4:11 pm
Here’s an excellent list of questions designed to tactfully turn discussion toward Jesus.
Charles Wesley, author of the hymn text O For A Thousand Tongues, had the same kind of question that he used to direct attention to the Savior. Same, yet different. Here is an excerpt about Charles Wesley from Whitefield’s biography by Arnold Dallimore (volume 1, pages 190-91).
“He was still dogmatic and blunt, and had no scruples about offending anyone if he felt the soul’s need required it. He says of one of his meetings in a Religious Society, “I urged upon each my usual question, ‘Do you deserve to be damned?’ Mrs. Platt, with the utmost vehemence cried out, ‘Yes, I do! I do!’”
Now that’s not a question you’d read in most lists of Gospel-directed questions.
Jul
1
a case of theological amnesia
Posted by Jon Trainer at 10:49 pm
Christians who are very anxious about the fate of God’s truth must have forgotten the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, which implies that God does not send his truth into history like a ship that is launched and then forgotten. He is the source at once of the truth human beings face and of the inspiration that enables them to recognize it as truth and, in a measure, to understand it. If God were not the Holy Spirit, who provides understanding, his Word would be inaudible and the life of Christ without significance….Need Christians, then, fear that God’s voice will be drowned out by human error? When they succumb to the temptation of intolerance, do they not betray an assumption that God is incapable of caring for his own concerns?
Glenn Tender in The Political Meaning of Christianity