This Q&A with Michael Horton comes from Zondervan Reflective. Learn more about Horton’s new book at RecoveringOurSanity.com.

What prompted you to write Recovering Our Sanity? 
Michael Horton: The replication of America’s “civil war” in the body of Christ. It’s one thing to be hated by the world because of the gospel; it’s another thing for Christians to hate each other because of politics. But then it seemed like, with the last couple of years, a lot of other fears presented themselves in bolder relief. It’s deeper than whether you wear a face mask.
What’s the #1 moral and spiritual problem in America today? Take a minute and think about it.
If you’re like me, the top 10 get filled in pretty quickly—the sins of “the others” (or my own that I keep secret). Now, what’s the #1 sin in the whole of biblical history? “There is no fear of God before their eyes” (Gen 20:11; Dt. 25:18; Ps 36:1; Rom 3:17, etc.). We try to domesticate it: “Fear doesn’t really mean fear; it means respect.” Well, it includes respect, but it’s being super scared—phobos in Greek, as in “phobia.” Why do we think that people shouldn’t be afraid of God? That’s where our problems begin. 
So, inspired by Daniel 4, I began to think of how we’re all little Nebuchadnezzars prancing on the roof of our personal palace boasting in our heart, “Is this not the great Babylon I have built by my power and for my glory?” Humbled—actually, humiliated—by God, the king realized the hard way that God is sovereign not just in general but in particular, over him. “I raised my eyes to heaven,” he said, “and my sanity was restored.” 
If I never leave my house because I’m jumpy about panthers lying in wait, that’s a little crazy. But it’s no saner to pretend a panther doesn’t exist if I meet one in the wild. It’s just the opposite for us right now. We’re terrified of losing power, security, elections, prosperity, health, a job, and so forth, while the fear of God is often the last thing we take seriously. I’m not just talking about “Others” but “Us.”

So what is the sanity that you would like to see us recover?
Horton: Sanity is just living with the grain of reality. “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight” (Prov 9:10). It’s the fear of the Lord that drives us to God’s mercy in Christ. “But with you, there is forgiveness, that you may be feared” (Ps 130:4). What a paradox, right? There’s a terrifying, unsettling fear of God that’s just sane. Then there’s a new kind of fear—with the anxiety removed—that results from the gospel. It’s sane too, but a total surprise. Two different sorts of fear: one from Mount Sinai, the other from Mount Calvary. And we need both. 

How has “cancel culture” exacerbated our fears? Should Christians be concerned with being on the “right side of history?”
Horton: I’m a 56-year-old guy raising teens. I have fears, believe me. In no other period have social convictions about right and wrong changed dramatically in such a short period of time. But that includes insulting people’s dignity by “canceling” them. That used to not be ok. But now many Christians think it’s fine because we’re good and they’re bad—really bad. 
When we get to the place of canceling, we’ve closed our hearts and turned off our minds. Now it’s just emotional blackmail, manipulation to get what we want. We sort of started this with boycotting Disney and then others back in the 1980s. 
Peter tells us, “But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord.” That’s well-placed fear. Next sentence: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” It’s been said that a quarrel kills a good argument. If I can’t listen and formulate a good argument, I’ll just toss verbal grenades and slogans at people. “Well, you’re just a homophobe” or “You’re a Social Justice Warrior.” We throw out epithets like “Critical Race Theory” (or just “CRT”) or “Christian Nationalist” as if the person we’re talking to can be dismissed with a label. And there’s one more sentence in 1 Peter 3:15: “But do this with gentleness and respect.” I can do that when I fear God instead of my neighbor.
The Bible gives us a story in which the stories of the daily news can be interpreted properly. Instead, we often interpret the Bible in light of the daily news. The church reflects the same worldly divisions. There are “FOX” churches and “CNN” churches. We’re certainly not getting the fear of God from those outlets. They’re just stoking our other fears—and making a lot of money in the process.
Jesus is the “right side of history.” He went to the cross but was raised on the third day and is glorified at the right hand of the Father, interceding for sinners, until he returns to establish final justice, righteousness, peace, and life. We’re called to care about the common good of our neighbors in this life—indeed, more than expecting the world to treat us well. But we’re longing ultimately for their salvation and incorporation into Christ’s body. When we see our neighbors through his eyes, through the lens of his love and mercy, we begin to honor them as created in his image and in need of Christ just like us. We don’t cancel fellow image-bearers of God. 
What the world needs to see are not fearful, angry, and proud Christians making the same stand that Republicans and Democrats make. The world doesn’t need the church to make a statement by wearing or not wearing masks. The world needs to hear good news, good arguments, and see Christians on their knees with the tax collector instead of in the peanut gallery with the Pharisee, confessing their sins and being forgiven. Because let’s face it, Christians have done some pretty bad stuff in Jesus’ name. “You who boast in the law dishonor God by breaking the law,” Paul indicts. “For, as it is written, ‘The name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you.” (Rom 2:23-24).
Precisely because we live in Jesus’ story, we take justice and righteousness seriously but know that it won’t ever be established perfectly and finally until Jesus does it in person. Not just “Others” but “We” will be praying, “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” until Jesus returns. 

You say that “death is the ultimate source of our anxieties and that fear of it can make us do some crazy things.” Can you tell us more about this?
Horton: As Christians, we say we believe in “the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” But often we live as if death and its symptoms—loneliness, job loss, moral decay and injustice, climate change, health, and politics—are in charge. That’s what I mean by “we worship what we fear.” If I’m most afraid of losing my job, then I’m finding my security in someone or something other than Christ. If I’m afraid of not being happy, I’ll make my wife and kids bear the burden of ultimate satisfaction—and maybe ditch them or ignore them when they don’t. If I’m afraid of all the social, political, economic, and moral changes, I’ll blame “Them”—whoever they are—for my unhappiness.
But when we raise our eyes to heaven like Nebuchadnezzar, our sanity is restored. That’s just living with the grain of reality. When we imagine we’re in charge, that we can transform ourselves or our world, or that the government or entertainment or a political figure can do this for us, it’s literally insane. It’s living against the grain of reality.
Reality is defined by the Triune God—the Father, in the Son, by the Spirit. First, God created us. We belong to him. He’s not there for our happiness. We exist for his glory and we’re made to enjoy him. When we enjoy someone or something else in that way, we make them our “creator.” Second, we belong to him by right of redemption. He chose us, redeemed us, regenerated, adopted, and justified us; incorporated us into Christ’s body. Praise the Lord that he has the whole world—and us—in his hands and he knows where history is going and in fact is already up ahead of us, leading us there by his word and Spirit.

Why is regular involvement in a local church essential?
Horton: Actual institutions mediating between the state and the individual are disintegrating. This is where the kingdom of Christ really stands out—or should, at least. When Jesus said, “I will build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it,” he wasn’t talking about a Platonic idea. He meant concrete, local, embodied branches of himself as the Vine. 
In a world of soundbites and surrogates, we go to church to actually encounter the God who made and redeemed us. We’re not just hearing the story again but being re-casted by the Holy Spirit from the dead-end stories of this fading age into the greatest story ever told: reality. Here, God makes a real promise with real words from the lips of another sinner, uses real water to seal that promise, and keeps pledging with real wine and bread. It’s where we hear, sing, and pray God’s word together, confess our sins together and confess our common faith in the Triune God, hear God’s absolution. We become what the word says. CNN and FOX won’t be covering that, but it’s the “breaking news.” And we’re no longer afraid.

How does Christian nationalism violate the doctrine of “one holy, catholic, and apostolic church?”
Horton: There is one Christian nation made up of “people from every tribe and people and nation and tongue” (Rev 5:9). Christ is the head with many members, the Vine with many branches. And a lot of those members or branches are people we see as “Them,” not “Us.” The world can’t unite people of different ethnic, socio-economic, and political backgrounds. In fact, big government, big entertainment media, and big business thrive on our divisions. But Christ promises to incorporate our divided social communities and our own divided selves into himself as the head. 
America has had a lot of Christian influence, a lot of it for the common good. But white Christians have done terrible things in the name of Christ throughout our history. We’ve used Jesus and the Bible for our sinful agendas. We have to own up to that. “Christian America” means something different to an African-American brother or sister than it does to a white Christian school teacher.
America doesn’t pick up the story where Israel left off. Often, the Black church has also appealed to these narratives as if they applied to the America envisioned by Dr. King rather than by white nationalists. Jesus is the fulfillment of that story, not America. He is the true Israel. The United States is not God’s chosen people. 
Once we accept that, we can truly secularize the narrative—not in the sense that God hasn’t blessed America providentially with a lot of blessings, but in the sense that the sacred isn’t allowed to migrate from Christ’s kingdom to the kingdoms of this age. To identify Christ’s kingdom with any kingdom of this age is to reject “one holy, catholic [worldwide] and apostolic church.”
All of this to say that all empires of this age are corrupt and destined to crumble. The founding fathers gave us a great Constitution—in my view, the best in history, but it’s not inspired and inerrant and it is the New Testament that provides the constitution for the new covenant people of God. All the other kingdoms will be shaken, leaving at the end only one left standing (Heb 12:28). 

What is your hope for the readers of this book?
Horton: If we recover a fear of God, we’ll recover sanity. I’m not writing for the general public. The main reader I have in mind is someone like me who believes that Jesus is the only way, the Bible is the only reliable revelation of God’s saving purposes, and yet feels anxious about life right now. It’s not a jeremiad. I’m not indicting. Rather, my hope is that we can all return to “the solid joys and lasting treasures that none but Zion’s children know.” And that starts with the fear of God that is the beginning of sanity.
Learn more at RecoveringOurSanity.com.

My thanks goes to the Good Book Company for sponsoring the blog this week to tell you about the excellent God’s Big Promises Bible Storybook.

Today’s Kindle deals include mostly classics but at least one newer book as well.
(Yesterday on the blog: Cessationist: The Film)
The Battle for the Body
Is Carl Trueman overstating it? I’m not actually sure. “As the fourth century wrestled with the doctrine of God, the fifth with Christology and the nature of God’s grace, and the Reformation era with sacraments and salvation, so our age wrestles with the question of anthropology. What does it mean to be human? More specifically, what does it mean to be an embodied human? For we now find ourselves not so much in a battle for the Bible but in a battle for the body.”
Apple’s Mother Nature Ad: It’s Protestant Paganism.
Glen Scrivener: “You can imagine the pitch: Mother Nature visits Apple HQ to conduct a performance review. In the writers’ room at Saturday Night Live it would gain instant traction: It’s Gaia in the boardroom as a take-no-prisoners businesswoman.” He’s talking about that new Apple commercial that was universally panned.
Places I Can’t Go
This is a sweet reflection on parenting older kids. “I am grateful that the kids grew up and were able to leave home and fly; they are capable and thriving, and I feel excitement and joy for them in each new adventure. But sometimes, when I say goodbye before a long separation, I have a fleeting but powerful yearning for them to be back under my roof.”
The Element of Physical Attraction in Romantic Relationships
Here’s quite a long and interesting look at the element of physical attraction in romantic relationships—not something I’ve ever seen an article on, to my knowledge.
Can You Focus on the Bible Too Much?
I find bibliolatry one of the laziest charges a person can make against a Christian.
Loving the Truth and Speaking in Love
“The noisy gongs of acerbic and judgmental discernment bloggers, podcasters, vloggers and conference speakers are scattered throughout our social media feeds…and they’re here to stay. The uncharitableness with which such individuals speak online immediately ought to leave a bad taste in the mouth of Christ’s true lambs.” Yes!
Flashback: The Ones Who Sow and the Ones Who Reap
Though some may go unrecognized here, they shall be commended by the one who sees and knows all things. The ones who sow shall rejoice as much as the ones who reap, the ones who supported as much as the ones who accomplished.

In God’s plan, waiting is not an interruption or obstruction of the plan; waiting is part of the plan. —Paul David Tripp

How long have you been battling that sin? How long have you been struggling to find peace with that trauma? How long have you been enduring that sorrow? In some way each of us carries a heavy load through this life. In some way each of us finds it a long marathon more than a brief sprint. In some way each of us is called to endure with fortitude, even for a very long time.

Yet we must never stop believing that God is capable of hearing our pleas and providing the help we long for. It is possible that we, like Jacob, may be called to bear a limp to the end. But it’s also possible that we, like Naaman, may be completely set free. God may glorify himself through our endurance or he may glorify himself through our deliverance. We see this poignantly in the account of a man who had suffered grievously for the better part of his life. And yet he learned that he had never been beyond God’s healing touch.
In John 5 we are told of a man who had been unable to walk for 38 years. Thirty-eight years! For nearly four decades he had been an invalid, and this in a culture that was not known for its mercy toward the suffering. Day by day he had tried to take advantage of a mystical cure and day by day he had failed, for no one had been willing to offer him help. His every chance had been snatched from him.
One day Jesus walked by the place where this desperate man was trying to be cured. Jesus asked him the most obvious of questions: “Do you want to be healed?” This was like asking a bleeding man if he wanted a bandage, like asking a starving man if he wanted a hamburger, like asking a destitute man if he wanted a house and a car. Of course he did! He answered in the affirmative and told why it had so far proven impossible. Then Jesus said the simple words, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” And at that very moment, the man was not merely cured, but fully healed, completely strengthened. For the first time in nearly 40 years he stood up in his own strength. He stood up healed and whole.
Have you ever wondered by John chose to tell how many years this man had been afflicted? Don’t you think it’s most plausible that he chose to provide that detail so we would marvel at the degree of God’s healing? A man who had been paralyzed for a week might be said to have recovered naturally. A man who had been paralyzed for a year might be said to have retained some of his ability, some of his strength, so that it was no great feat to stand and walk. But a man who had been paralyzed for 38 years would have muscles that were atrophied, ligaments that were tightened, bones that were weakened. He could no more stand than an infant. Under normal circumstances he would need reconstructive surgery and years of therapy to be able to do so much as take a step. And yet in one moment he was fully healed, completely restored, as good as new. And the only plausible explanation was that God had acted sovereignly and powerfully.
It seems to me that God often prefers to work with what is most broken. He loves to display his power with what has been most shattered. He loves to contrast the heights of his strength with the depths of our weakness. He loves to prove that none of us is beyond the reach of his grace. None of us is any more beyond his help than was this 40-year invalid.
While we should never minimize what is truly tragic, whether infirmity, bereavement, or trauma, we should also ensure we do not allow the severity of our tragedies and the length with which we’ve borne them to diminish our confidence that God can bring relief and healing. And so we do well to ask: How deep is that habit of sin? How grievous the memory of that trauma? How great the grief of that sorrow? Is it more immovable than legs that had been frozen in place for 38 years? Is it more substantial than muscles that had atrophied since the equivalent of 1984? Is it more fixed and constant than nearly four decades of disuse and decay? If God healed that man’s legs and feet, could he not soothe our broken hearts, calm our troubled souls, fix our sinful habits?
Sometimes it best serves God’s purposes to leave us in our weakness, for it is in this state that he can best prove himself to be our strength. Yet sometimes it best serves God’s purposes to interrupt long suffering and reward long praying with a demonstration of his power. It is no sin and no contradiction to long and pray for the latter even while persisting through the former. All the while we can be confident that whether through endurance or through restoration, God has ignored no prayer and made no mistake. We can be completely certain that, when faith turns to sight, we will judge it all good and very good.