Early in my marriage (and midway through an argument), my wife complained to me one day that I talked to her like I would a guy from seminary. By my beard, she was right. I knew exactly what she meant.

Amidst my band of brothers, sword fights were not uncommon. Generals trained us for battle; we could not be afraid to spar. Fights happened, as they must when important things are at stake, but we asked forgiveness if necessary and left the stronger for it. Our spiritual program, a place for serious joy, prepared us to affect untold people and places and eternities. We needed one another for sharper service. To be the men our Lord was calling for, we needed heat and friction and resistance from brothers who were for each other in Christ.

My marriage, however, I confused with this combat training. When we disagreed, I instinctively strategized, mobilizing forces of argumentation and logic here, mounting a brigade of illustration there; war must decide which idea prevailed. When I listened, it was the calculating variety — cold and non-interrupting, as Chesterton once said, “he listens to the enemy’s arguments as a spy would listen to the enemy’s arrangements” (What’s Wrong with the World, 26). A good practice for debate; a poor way to live with my wife in an understanding way.

Though as theologically sharp as many seminary men, she was my wife, not my fencing partner. Though she could hold her own, she did not find the swordplay, even when discussing Scripture, nearly as uplifting as I did. Note to self: I should not duel my wife over doctrine. Good to know.

Of Mice and Men

A man ought not debate his wife as he would a brother. But let’s add another truism: a man need not disagree with brothers in the same way he would with his wife. It is one problem to talk to wives like men; it is another to talk to men like wives. It is one loss to forget how to live with our wives in an understanding way, another to forget how to live with men according to the nature of men. Are we losing the ability to talk to men as men?

The writer of Ecclesiastes writes that for everything (speech included) there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to build up, plant, laugh, heal, embrace, and make peace. But this is not all he says. At other times, you must sit among your brothers to pluck up, to kill, to die, to break down, to refrain from embracing, to weep, to lose, to attack his darling sins or cherished unbelief (Ecclesiastes 3:1–8).

God’s rams still need to butt heads; his lions still need to roar. We can’t always play two-hand touch. Nathans need to tell Davids, “You are the man!” Pauls need to oppose Peters to their face or stand aghast at the Galatians. We need Nathaniels in whom exists no guile or flattery. We need men whose “letters are weighty and strong” (2 Corinthians 10:10), servants not tickled by man-pleasing (Galatians 1:10). We need Judes able to contend for the faith because they’ve learned how to contend with their brothers in seminary classrooms and with men who hold them accountable.

Where are the Luthers, the Spurgeons, the Ryles that roused sleeping generations with masculine boldness? We have few and need more. When masculine directness, Christlike candor, and warlike speech fade from the mouths of good men, the world and church suffer rot.

The Man Christ Jesus

Imagine our Savior’s deliberation the moment Peter, his second-in-command, stands between him and the cross. Heaven’s cheers had not yet died down at Peter’s confession, “You are the Christ,” before Peter tries to confront this Christ (Mark 8:29, 32). Jesus plainly taught that the Son of Man must suffer and be rejected, yet Peter, trusting his assessments too much, “took him aside and began to rebuke him” (Mark 8:32).

Do not miss the phrase preceding Christ’s masculine reply:

But turning and seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” (Mark 8:33)

Jesus commends Peter, the rock, in one breath (Matthew 16:15–20), and administers the strong rebuke in the next. Notice where he looked before he struck: at his other sheep. He considered them as a good father considers the other children who witness a sibling’s defiance. Peter needed to hear this; the disciples needed to hear this. To withhold it would fail not only Peter, but them. We imagine Peter’s eyes following his Savior’s to the other disciples in that intense moment, only to reengage with the blow: “Get behind me, Satan!”

Modern-day disciples trained in a generation of safe spaces recoil: Jesus, don’t you see he only cares about your welfare? He was only considering group morale. Did you really have to call him Satan and belittle him in front of the others? Jesus, don’t you think that was a little harsh? He did well just a minute ago; I wonder if you missed an opportunity to encourage him.

But Jesus, perfectly concerned with God’s glory and the eternal good of his sheep, struck the rock before the others. He had manly words and a manly tone for his chief man and friend. Seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter to teach them all. A man bold only toward his enemies is not yet as Christlike as he needs to be.

And take note: nobody ran away crying. No one took to blows. No one challenged another to a duel. The truth was spoken, the rebuke taken, and men moved on, better for it. How can we establish fellowship like this? A couple of starting points.

1. Set terms in peacetime.

Unlearning the coddling of modern speech, especially within male circles, need not be done overnight. We do not put gloves on, sneak up behind a brother, and sucker punch him in the name of courage. In my experience, rules of engagement should be established beforehand. When some men and I formed a group years ago, we drew from an old meeting covenant and agreed in the affirmative:

Are you willing to charitably rebuke, chasten, and instruct each other?
Are you willing to take rebukes, chastening, and instruction from others?

We make it clear at the beginning that we must have priorities higher than comfort. Here we strive for a culture concerned with grace-giving but also sin-slaying so that we might be more God-pleasing. We resolve — God helping us — not to let personal ego or weaker-brother sensitivities stop our ears from hearing (or giving) a discomforting word, a naked question, or a plain rebuke.

Bold speech had been a weakness of some in our brotherhood; now it’s a strength. Caring they remain, but without the coddling that shelters sin and harbors — for the sake of “unity” — God-belittling theology and practice.

2. Consider the goodness of correction.

Yes, confrontation is unpleasant. To some it feels like a slow suffocation. To others, a frozen chill climbing the spine. To others, the kindling of a flame to devour culprits offering this strange fire. To still others, the words replay in the mind as hammer blows, driving them down and down into the floor.

After the initial tremor, a man’s pride usually demands satisfaction. Criticism, disagreement, correction all seem to drag our reputation into the contest. I’ve felt what Richard Baxter describes:

They think it will follow in the eyes of others that weak arguing is the sign of a weak man. . . . If we mix not commendations with our reproofs, and if the applause be not predominant, so as to drown all force of the reproof or confutation, they take it as almost an insufferable injury. (The Reformed Pastor, 129–30)

“A man bold only toward his enemies is not yet as Christlike as he needs to be.”

In the heat of the moment, I’ve found that cool reflection on the goodness of correction helps me summon the cavalry of humility. In my disagreement, am I loving the truth, the church, my brother, my God, or myself? If the former, the jousters may need to take another pass. If the latter, I should be suspicious of my urge to swing back, slow to speak, and willing to disengage for a time to drown my pride in Christ’s blood.

Love Peace, Go to War

Beloved, although I was very eager to write to you about our common salvation, I found it necessary to write appealing to you to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints. (Jude 3)

Jude did not live to fight, but he would fight. He wished to discuss the thing that brought him the most joy: their common salvation in Christ. He wanted to explore the treasury of Christ’s excellencies, the bliss of the new birth, the grandeur of God’s glory, and the wonder of the cross. He wanted to drape these glories over all of life (and he does some), but alas . . .

There is a time to discuss our common salvation and revel in Christ. And there is a time when we must draw a sword and defend the Savior and salvation in which we revel. In our times, the spirit of the age scolds that the masculine tone is toxic, aggressive, and unnecessary. Boys should not be boys — much less, someday, men.

Brethren, we are chiefs of our tribes, leaders of families. If we cannot spar over the greatest, most urgent verities of this world and the next, where can we? If we are to hear “you’re wrong” or undergo cross-examination or hear rebuke, should it not be over these truths and with brothers who love us? “A rebuke goes deeper into a man of understanding than a hundred blows into a fool” (Proverbs 17:10). Let hard words sink in, men of God. Speak them with patience; deliver them for each other’s good; remember to speak to men as men. Learn not only to endure them but to cherish them.

Audio Transcript

Let’s start off there in Isaiah 55. I want this to set the tone for our whole approach. I don’t know what kind of approach you bring to the spiritual disciplines. I want to bring an Isaiah 55 approach, which I think is not a one-time approach. I think it’s a lifetime approach of these habits of grace (or means of grace or spiritual disciplines). I would love to spend the whole time on Isaiah 55. That’s the plan tomorrow at a church in Pepperell, Massachusetts. I’m very excited about that. We’re just going to start with the first two verses (Isaiah 55:1–2) to set the tone for our conversation here about these habits of grace.

Look at verse 1: “Come, everyone who thirsts.” That’s you. You thirst in your soul. God made you that way — to thirst. The question isn’t whether you thirst. It’s whether you know it, admit it, recognize it, and own it. It continues:

Come, everyone who thirsts,     come to the waters;and he who has no money,     come, buy and eat!Come, buy wine and milk     without money and without price.Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,     and your labor for that which does not satisfy?Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,     and delight yourselves in rich food.

The context for this amazing invitation from God through Isaiah to Israel, seven hundred years before Jesus came, and to us in the church, is in Isaiah 53. This suffering servant has stepped forward in an enigmatic way — which we now see with far more clarity in Jesus — to bear our sins. And in chapter 54, the invitation goes to Jerusalem, to Israel, to God’s old-covenant people. They’re brought back from this predicted exile. And then, in Isaiah 55, the doors swing open to the Gentiles, non-Jews like me. As far as I know, there’s no Jewish blood in me. I’m not Jewish at all. I’m a rascal Gentile. Maybe most of you are Gentiles.

The invitation of Isaiah 55 has swung wide open to the non-Jews, to the Gentiles, and he appeals to us on the basis of a soul thirst, a soul hunger: “Why do you labor for that which does not satisfy?” The implication is, “I’m going to satisfy you. I’m offering you satisfaction for your soul. You are hungry; you are thirsty. Come eat; come drink.” You may say, “Well, that sounds good, but how do you drink God? How do you eat Jesus? I would like to take the invitation, but practically, what does it look like in my life today, tomorrow, or the next day? What are some of the actual initiatives and steps to drink God and eat God and receive this invitation? How do I come to the waters? How do I receive it? How do I seek my soul satisfaction in Jesus?”

Moving Toward the Means of Grace

The answer to that question in significant part in the Christian life is that God gives us means. God, in his sovereignty, has appointed to use means. Here’s our outline for these few minutes. I have three points to organize this, and then we’re going to do Q&A.

First, we’re going to talk about the God of grace. We have to start with God. Sometimes, discussions about spiritual disciplines get off on the wrong foot because we think, Spiritual disciplines — it’s my spirit, my discipline. I have to do this. This is all on me. This is my initiative. We’re starting with the God of grace.

Second, we’ll look at his appointed means of grace. God has appointed means, and he specified the means for us.

And third, we’re going to end with the end of the means. Do you get that? If you have means, they are means to an end. If they’re the means of grace, we need to say what the end of those means is.

God of Grace

Earlier today, we looked at 1 Peter 5:10. This is a great text about the grace of God:

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

He’s the God of “all grace” — all kinds of grace. Earlier, we talked about various trials. But he has various graces, a bounty of various graces. Sometimes, we have our favorite kind of grace that we like to really emphasize, and we don’t avail ourselves of the bounty of his graces. We get into a singular grace and forget about the double grace and the triple grace. So let me spell that out.

Grace of Justification

The grace of God justifies by faith alone. Do you know the term justify? That’s about how you get accepted as a sinner by the holy God. What is the ground of your acceptance, of your being in right relationship with God? And the answer is the grace of justification, and that comes through faith alone. You don’t do anything to earn his acceptance. It is fully by grace, received by faith alone. This is Romans 4:4–5:

Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness.

In other words, you are justified, you are accepted by God one hundred percent, through faith alone. That’s the grace of justification. Some people may say, “Well, that is so amazing. I’ll just walk away now. What other graces could I ever need or want?” But he’s the God of all grace. He has more grace. Isn’t this amazing? I mean, the grace of justification is phenomenal enough, and he has more grace.

Grace of Sanctification

He’s also the God of the grace of sanctification. You have a God of grace who sanctifies you, and he sanctifies through faith. But in sanctification, you get involved: you start to do things, desire things, will things, initiate things, act things, read things, pray things, and gather with believers.

This is Titus 2:11–12:

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age.

“The grace of God has appeared.” I love that expression. He’s talking about the incarnation. Isn’t that a great way to think about Advent? The grace of God has appeared. That’s what we’re celebrating in Advent and at Christmas. The grace of God has appeared, and some of us might expect he would next say that it’s the grace of justification of the ungodly. That’s not what he’s doing here. He did that in Romans 4. He could do that here, but here he says,

The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age.

And if you say, “Oh, that doesn’t sound like grace — ungodliness and worldly passions, I kind of want to live in those,” then you don’t know grace. It’s miserable to live in ungodliness and worldly passions. God is too gracious to just accept you based on Christ alone and then to leave you in the misery of sin. He’s more gracious than just to accept you apart from your being made holy, apart from the grace of becoming progressively more holy and godly. This is grace to be sanctified.

Grace of Glorification

And the grace of God glorifies. This is 2 Thessalonians 1:11–12:

To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.

What’s happening now in sanctification is one degree of glorification to the next, but a day is coming, at Christ’s second coming, when the body will be raised, and you will be fully glorified by the grace of God.

So, God’s grace justifies, sanctifies, and glorifies. That’s the God of grace. That’s the foundation. Everything we want to do here is not starting at the center point of us, but it is positioning ourselves based on the God of grace and what he has to say.

Means of Grace

Next is God’s appointed means of grace. What are the “means of grace”? What’s that? What’s that language? We’re used to hearing about spiritual disciplines, and that’s okay. I’m not on a campaign to rid the world of the term. It would be a fruitless campaign. There has been a particular emphasis in the last generation. There were some books in the late 1970s and early 1980s that really started talking about spiritual disciplines. D.A. Carson, a theologian I love and respect, says, “Means of grace [is] a lovely expression less susceptible to misinterpretation than spiritual disciplines.”

I like that. I think it’s right. Means of grace is an older term. This may be due to my own flaws and failures, but the term spiritual disciplines lands on me first and foremost as something I must do. It puts the center on me. The effort must be on me. But when the emphasis is on means of grace, then it starts outside of me. Now, what I’m doing is just positioning myself to get under the waterfall, under the flow of his grace. He’s told me where the grace is coming, and I’m just adjusting. That’s the work I’m doing. I’m adjusting.

Maybe my favorite means-of-grace quote is from a guy named J.C. Ryle a little over a hundred years ago. He was a bishop in the Anglican church — a man’s man. He was a cricket player and played some rugby, and he loved talking simply. He was very learned, but he loved talking simply. He was a good preacher. Here’s what he says about means of grace:

The “means of grace” are such as Bible reading, private prayer, and regularly worshiping God in Church, wherein one hears the word taught and participates in the Lord’s Supper.

Did you hear those? He said Bible reading, private prayer, and then he talked about church. And in church, the word is taught. He mentioned the Lord’s Supper. That’s part of the church. We’ll pick that up in a second. Ryle continues:

I lay it down as a simple matter of fact that no one who is careless about such things must ever expect to make much progress in sanctification. I can find no record of any eminent saint who ever neglected them. They are appointed channels through which the Holy Spirit conveys fresh supplies of grace to the soul, and strengthens the work which he has begun in the inward man. . . . Our God is a God who works by means, and he will never bless the soul of that man who pretends to be so high and spiritual that he can get on without them. (Holiness, 26)

If I walk around my house and want light, I don’t say, “Light on.” Well, I know you can train a computer to do these things, but that’s because you’ve trained it with a particular means. Or if I want some water, I don’t just walk around the house going, “Water. I’ll have some water.” And you don’t just walk around in the wilderness or in the Christian life going, “All right, God, I’ll take some grace. I’ll have some grace right here. Drop a package of grace.” There are means. If I want the light on, I hit a switch.

Now, that’s not a testimony to me. I haven’t done anything great. I don’t walk around the house flipping on lights going, “Look what I did. I turned on the light,” because I don’t have a clue how to do electrical work. The city is providing electricity. Electricians have wired it up. I’m not doing anything that redounds to my glory when I’m accessing these means. I’m just doing what the appointed channels that are given are supposed to do. I’m turning the lights on. I go to the faucet and turn it on. There’s no big celebration of my ability when I turn the faucet on, but I’m engaging the means.

Are you engaging God’s given means in the Christian life, or are you just wandering around the house hoping to have light and water at the appointed time, walking around outside hoping he’ll just hit you with grace?

Now, the question is, How do we put ourselves on the path of God’s grace? Let me give you one passage, and then let me give you a couple huge swaths that dominate the Psalms, and then I’ll give you examples from Hebrews. That’s how we’re going to set these up, in these three big categories.

Teaching, Fellowship, Bread, Prayers

The Bible verse is Acts 2:42. This is in the early church in this honeymoon period where it’s all exciting. The Holy Spirit has fallen. There are thousands of converts, and there isn’t persecution yet, and everybody is happy, and they’re sharing their stuff, and everybody wants in. What are they doing? People want the spectacular stuff. The Holy Spirit does the spectacular things and they’re adding to their number every day. We all want that stuff, but what were they doing when that exciting stuff happened? Acts 2:42 tells us what they were doing:

And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

That’s pretty ordinary. These are not surprising answers when J.C. Ryle says Bible reading, prayer, church, and the Lord’s Supper. And when Acts 2:42 says “the apostle’s teaching” — that’s the word. “The fellowship” — that’s church. “The breaking of bread” — I take that to be both the celebration of the Lord’s Supper and the community sharing of a meal. And then there are “the prayers.”

So, you can take the pie of God’s means of grace, and you can cut it in four slices like Acts 2:42 — or like J.C. Ryle. I like to cut my pie in three slices, so it’s like a peace sign. I cut my pie in three slices, and here’s how I summarize the means of grace. I find this helpful for getting at practical application. First, hear God’s voice in his word. Second, have his ear in prayer. And third, belong to his body in the fellowship of the local church.

I find it helpful that at any stage of life, I can always think of the great spiritual disciplines to be doing. It’s easy to make a list of twelve, fifteen, or twenty and start to think, “How am I going to ever do these? I’m going to have to go monastic to be able to do all these things.” Or I can ask, “What are the operative principles of God’s grace? Am I hearing his voice in his word? Am I accessing the wonder of having his ear in prayer? Am I belonging to his body? Am I in real-life covenant relationships in the local church?”

Seeking God in the Psalms

Where else does this matrix come from? I’ve mentioned the Psalms. I’ll give you a little homework. Just read the Psalms and look for three things in the Psalms. It’s the longest book in the Bible. If you’ve read the Psalms and you know the Psalms, this will resonate right away. How often do the psalmists talk about God’s voice and his word? Psalm 119 is dedicated to the power of God’s word. How often they talk about God’s voice, his revelation, his word!

Second, how often do they plead to have his ear, and they express with confidence that he hears them? This is one of the amazing things in the Psalms — how much they’re talking about God’s listening and God’s ear hearing the psalmist. They say, “Hear my cry, O Lord.”

And then last, there’s often a fellowship context. There’s a corporate context. They often speak of praising him in the assembly of his people — with the great congregation.

So, I’m just taking the Psalms’ language of voice and ear, and I’m bringing in this New Testament metaphor of body for this little summary. But let me show it to you briefly in Hebrews.

God’s Voice, Ear, and People

I’m going to have to move quickly because I want to show you some texts in Hebrews for these categories, mention the end of all the means, and then do some Q&A. Here’s the pattern in Hebrews.

Hear His Voice

First, we hear his voice.

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son. (Hebrews 1:1–2)

Let me pull several things out here. First, how amazing that God speaks. He reveals himself. He is communicative. What can you say? God is talkative. He likes to talk. We have a nice thick book because God loves to talk, and he reveals himself in nature. God loves to reveal himself. One of the tragedies in our sin is how dull our ears and eyes have become to his self-revelation and how talkative he is. Open your eyes and your ears to his word.

So, God speaks, and he speaks climactically in his Son. The Gospel of John calls him the Word. It’s as if, if God had one thing to say, if he had one word to say to humanity, it’s Jesus, his own Son. The eternal second person of the Trinity came among us, revealed not just on a page but in a person. So, Jesus is the full embodiment of God’s self-revelation, his Word. God speaks. He reveals himself in his Son climactically. His Son has this group of apostles, and God has his prophets in the Old Testament, so that we have this book of revelation of God speaking to us. It’s a remarkable thing that God has revealed himself.

“Hear God’s voice in his word, have his ear in prayer, and belong to his body.”

And in that book, Hebrews 12:25 says, “See that you do not refuse him who is speaking.” When you access Scripture, whether you’re holding a paper Bible, whether you’re looking at it on your phone or computer, this is no mere record of what God said in the past. This is what God is saying to the world, what he is saying to the nations, what he is saying through his Spirit to his people — and to you. This is a living word.

The word of God is living and active. God continues to speak to his people, by his Spirit, in his word.

Have His Ear

We’ll focus on Hebrews 4:14–16 and then Hebrews 10:19–23. I’m going to read these two passages quickly and listen to the things in common. In common, there’s a mention of a great high priest. His personal name is Jesus. He’s passed through the heavens, so he ascended. He’s in God’s very presence. Therefore, he says, “Hold fast to our confession of faith in him,” and, “Draw near to God through him,” and do so with confidence. You can see that in both passages. Hebrews 4:14–16 says,

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Prayer is a means of grace. We find grace to help in time of need. This drawing near is more than just prayer, but it is not less. Prayer is a fitting application of Hebrews 4 and Hebrews 10. Here’s Hebrews 10:19–23:

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.

We have a great high priest. He’s ascended. He’s seated at God’s right hand. Right now, in this moment, the risen and glorified God-man sits in glory in heaven, and he’s ready to provide fresh supplies of grace through his Spirit, by his word, and through this grace of hearing us. He not only reveals himself, but he would pause, he would stoop, he would say, “I want to hear from you. I just spoke; now what do you have to say?” That’s prayer.

Belong to His Body

Lastly, we come to fellowship. Belong to his body. The two best texts on fellowship are both in Hebrews. Hebrews 10:24–25 says,

And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

What’s significant in Hebrews 10 is that the many, the church, are instructed to watch out for “some.” Some are neglecting assembling together. And he says to the many, “Watch out for them; bring them in.” And the way he says to do this in the gathering, in the fellowship, is that they consider one another to provoke them to love and good deeds. That’s the language of how “to stir up one another.” It’s literally provoke. This is a good provoking. A lot of times, provoking is bad, like provoking someone to anger or something like that. This is provoking them toward good. You poke them and prod them. How would you provoke them? How would you stir them up not to anger but to good? How do you provoke them to do good?

And there’s this amazing power of words. He says, “encouraging one another.” You can encourage them by baking them a pie, or giving them some food, or helping them move. But often, we encourage one another through words. We have these weird holes in the side of our head, and words go into the hole and into the brain, and it can go down into the heart, and it can feed someone’s faith. It can give them spiritual courage when they’re weak, when they don’t have it in them. They might think, “Ah, I need to get myself into Bible study and do this intense study. I don’t have the energy to do that. I’m not feeding my own faith.” Well, you know what? You have a hole in the side of your head. I’m going to stick some words in there and try to give you some courage and try to feed your faith through these ears.

The second passage is Hebrews 3:12–13:

Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.

Again, we have the power of words to speak into each other’s lives, to put grace in a soul through an ear, and to watch out for each other — to give each other grace. In God’s word, we’re receiving grace from him. And in prayer, we are receiving grace from him even as we reply back to him and express our needs in prayer. But in fellowship, there’s this mutual giving of grace. You’re receiving grace by the care, the words, and the provision of brothers and sisters in Christ. And now you’re being a means of grace. You have the opportunity to be God’s channel of grace to a brother or sister.

So, hear God’s voice in his word, have his ear in prayer, and belong to his body.

End of the Means

Let me finish before questions here on, third and finally, the end of the means. Very briefly, what’s the end? Why are we doing this? What’s the end? You might answer, “Growth.” Grow for what? Why do you want to grow? What do you want to grow into? Something that looks impressive for your glory? What’s the growth for?

Let me give you two texts in particular that get at the end. What is the end of the Christian life? Jonathan struck the note well in the last session in Philippians 3. Consider John 17:3. This is Jesus the night before he dies, praying to his Father for his disciples to hear it. He says, “This is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” That is such a stunning prayer. This is the great end. This is eternal life. This is the goal — knowing God and Jesus Christ — as he prays for his disciples before he goes to the cross the next day.

Here’s how Paul is going to say it in Philippians 3:7–8, which Jonathan quoted in that last session:

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.

That’s the end: knowing Jesus. There’s no greater end. Knowing Jesus is not a means to anything else the human soul was made for. We pursue the means of grace toward the end of knowing him and enjoying him. He’s the one who said, “I am the bread of life [keep Isaiah 55 in mind here]; whoever comes to me shall not hunger, and whoever believes in me shall never thirst” (John 6:35). And “on the last day of the feast . . . Jesus stood up and cried out, ‘If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink’” (John 7:37).

And that’s how the Bible ends, with Isaiah 55. Did you know that? You thought, “Oh, it’s Revelation 22.” Well, Revelation 22:17 is Isaiah 55:

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

So, take the water of life. Take the bread through hearing God’s voice in his word, having his ear in prayer, and belonging to his body in the fellowship of the local church. There’s a framework and matrix in which you can evaluate God’s principles of ongoing grace in a season of life.

Now, I did not specify here exactly how you should hear his voice in his word. I didn’t tell you all you should do to pray. And your local church is going to establish those corporate habits in the local body.

Question and Answer

If you have a question, and you think it would be helpful for the group, then let’s ask the question and we’ll have some Q&A for a few minutes.

Question: What is the definition of grace?

It helps to put it in a context. Sometimes people will put it in the context of mercy. For me, in this context of these means of grace or habits of grace, it is the favor, the blessing, and the power of God. Despite your deservedness, he’s giving it to you in justification. It’s not just justification and your full acceptance, but it’s also power for the Christian life and power that’s coming. So, grace is very important. Grace for the Christian is not simply a past reality. Sometimes, we can have this sense of, “This is amazing grace that Jesus came and died at the cross. Wow, look at all that grace. Look at all that grace in the past. Therefore, out of gratitude, I need to expend my effort to thank him for his grace.”

But the God of all grace doesn’t leave grace in the past. There is grace in the past. But you also stand in the present through grace, and you will be glorified through grace. It is all of grace. You have entered a sphere of grace. The Christian life is lived in grace, and we press on in faith banking on God’s future grace. Grace is coming. The reason we keep going on the journey is not because the grace is so great in the past that we’re going to marshal our energy to get to the end, but because the grace of the past shows me the God of the present who will give grace for the next step, and the next step, and he will get me to the end by his grace. That’s not a precise definition, but it gets at the reality of God’s empowering of our Christian life and accepting us fully in Jesus Christ.

Question: What is the place of journaling in the habits of grace?

First of all, let me say this: you don’t have to. Nothing in the Bible says you should journal. When we talk about other means of grace, we need to say that prayer is not an option. Accessing God’s ear is not an option. The local church is not optional. Journaling is totally optional. If you want to try it, great. I am helped when I’m engaging God’s word to engage actively with a pencil in hand. I engage my whole soul better when I write some things out. It can be helpful to do some journaling.

There have been seasons in my life, especially when I was younger — before I had a wife, four kids, and a full-time job — and I made use of that for more journaling. Sometimes, I’d journal my whole devotional time. I’d read a passage and work through it and basically type out every thought. I would think, “Man, this keyboard is amazing because I can type things so fast.” Then I’ll go back and forth. Sometimes the digital engagement feels like it’s so mechanical. It doesn’t feel relational, like communion with God. So, I would go back to my written journal.

I’ve been all over the place over the years with journaling. I think the best headway I’ve made and the way that it’s been most useful is when I’ll just write a little bit and not try to set my standard too high. I think the places when I would journal for a while and then just kind of fall off the wagon or whatever is when I would start writing and writing and writing and peeling the layers of the onion of my soul, and then I feel like, “Oh man, I can’t even start journaling unless I have 45 minutes.” That’s not going to be helpful. That’s not going to work.

One thing I tried at one point, and I’ll often do this, is to try to write a sentence a day. If I have my Bible reading plan, I’ll go along with that. I think it’s really helpful to have a plan, not just to come to the Bible and flip open and say, “Oh, I’ll just read Titus again. I just always read a short one. Titus or Philemon every time, or Jude.” Have a plan that’ll get you through. And then at the end, what if you’re thinking in your time that you’d just like to capture something? It’s not an assignment. It’s not schoolwork. This is an opportunity to further enjoy what you are enjoying by making it into a single complete sentence. You might say, “Oh, isn’t it amazing that he is the God of all grace?” That’s it. That’s it for the day. That’s November 16, and then move on. Come back the next day and have one thought for November 17.

I had a Word doc called “Sentences,” and my goal was to write one sentence a day. It could be a prayer; it could just be how amazing a passage was. That may be one way to do it. Set yourself a really low bar. You don’t have to do this. Do a really low bar. Try a sentence a day. And you know what? If you get to the end of that first sentence and you think, “I’d kind of like to write a second sentence,” go ahead. Just go hog wild. That would be my advice. See if it’s helpful for you. It’s not helpful for everybody. It doesn’t have to be. As far as we know, Jesus kept no journal, and he did fine.

Question: Could you elaborate more on Bible-reading plans?

This is where you’re getting into habits, right? Sunday morning, you don’t want to think, “Hmm, should I go to church this morning?” Or when you get into a car, you don’t want to think, “Hmm, should I put a seatbelt on this time, or should I challenge the odds?” Good habits are things you don’t want to expend the mental energy on making decisions that you should have already made, and you should do. Put the seatbelt on when you get in the car; when you wake up, read the Bible; if it’s Sunday morning, go to church.

These are good habits. These are life-giving habits that save your life. So, when I get up in the morning, I don’t want to rethink it all over again like, “Huh, well, it’s a morning, what should I do? Should I read a Bible?” Just make the habit. I want to hear his voice first. What you do first each day is revealing. Is it news first? Is that what your god really is? That’s what the secular world would have you think. News is god. You can’t live this day if you haven’t done your news. Baloney. There was no news 150 years ago. It’s made up. You know what’s not made up? That God is still speaking by his Spirit through his word. That’s a really good voice to start the day with, the voice of God in the word by the power of the Spirit. Set the trajectory for your day.

If your day is crazy busy, like so many of us, we’re just being bombarded by the tides of the world’s pace and speed. One of my biggest thoughts in the morning is that I just want to engage God’s word without hurry. I don’t know if there are any computer programmers or those who are in the industry where you talk about getting into a “flow state.” I’m looking for something kind of like that. I want a devotional flow state where my phone is more than an arm’s length away. I’m not watching a timer. If some thoughts of to-dos come in my head, I’ll scribble them down and move them out of the way. I want to get into a flow state with God’s word. I want to have enough margin.

Sometimes people ask, “How long? How long in the word?” I want enough margin to lose track of time. I want enough margin that my heart would be warmed and not just information running through my head and then rush off to the day and check my box and move on. I want some heart work to be done. I don’t think you need to walk away every day with a life application. If those happen, that’s great. That’s gravy. The goal in engaging God’s word is, “Father, would you warm my heart? I pray that when I’m reading here in this chapter, in this paragraph, that it wouldn’t just be information through my head. Would you help me to feel how I should feel in receiving your word?” That’s the battle for me every morning. That’s the prayer. “Father, help me feel how you would have me feel from this text.”

Having a Bible-reading plan can be helpful to go right into what you will be reading that day. The plan I do is about three hundred days a year. You have 25 days a month. It’s called the Navigators Bible Reading Plan. That’s one you can use. I would say have a plan and then take the assignment of that plan as God’s will for you that morning. That’s what I do.

He orchestrates my life. He knows all the details, and he’s seen to it that I’m going to be reading these passages, and the Holy Spirit can work at those passages. I take that as God’s word to me for the day. And I want to find something I can linger over where there is not just mere reading, but what the old saints called meditation — which is not eastern meditation, where you empty your head and do a mantra. It’s meditation where you fill your mind with God’s word and seek to feel the significance of his word in your heart.

The Puritans would talk about having a sensible benefit from God’s word, that you have been in some way affected by it, in some way moved by it. It might be a holy fear, it might be a rebuke, it might be excitement, it might be the joy of comfort, or it might be a fresh sense of God’s goodness, but we should feel some sensible benefit. Often, I’ll read through those passages, and sometimes something will strike me as, Oh, that’s so good. Stop, pause, reread, think about it, pray about that, write that down as my one sentence in the journal. Or sometimes I’ll read through the passages, praying, “Father, what is your word to me today?” I’ll go back and look at those passages again. I’ll find some place to kind of camp out for a minute, to linger, unhurried, and to try to press into my soul in meditating on God’s word.

Question: Do you have any advice for prayer during spiritually dry seasons?

I think the main thing I would want to say about prayer is to bind it to God’s word. I’m trying to create this relational context here by talking about hearing his voice and having his ear. This is communion. This is what the Puritans would talk about as communion with God. It’s not just Bible reading and prayer; it’s Bible meditation and prayer together being communion. One great thing about prayer — and what’s so important about it — is that it’s a conversation with God. We don’t start the conversation.

When you feel dry in your prayer life, the first step isn’t I; the first step is him. I want to hear from him. How can I get access more to his word that my prayers might be responsive? I think sometimes we can feel this obligatory sense since we all know we should be praying. I mean, the Bible is just very clear: we should be praying. And because we know that obligation, there’s a sense of, “I need to be praying. I should be praying.” And we can lose sight that prayer is responsive. We’re the creatures; he’s the Creator. He’s the Redeemer; we’re the redeemed. I need something to feed on and respond to in prayer. So, I would say going to his word and slowing down in his word — to feed on it and meditate on it — is where we should start.

And then, the Puritans would talk about prayer being “the proper issue of meditation.” This is where meditation is going. As you linger over God’s word and seek to feel its effect in your heart, a warming of the heart — that naturally should lead to a response of prayer. That’s the point where prayer is fed and ready to respond. I think that’s the way I would encourage you to go about it individually.

But here are some other things on prayer. One of the greatest gifts in the Christian life is prayer together. If you’re feeling a dryness in prayer, it is a beautiful thing to be in a prayer gathering with fellow believers. Sometimes, in the rush of our modern lives, we maybe don’t avail ourselves of the prayer gathering in our local churches like we could. I don’t know that I’ve ever been to a prayer gathering and left disappointed. It seems to always go better than I was expecting.

It is a sweet thing to hear fellow brothers and sisters pray, to be there, to be in a spirit of prayer, to not have to be the one praying, to hear brothers and sisters pour out their heart before God, to get to know Jesus better because they know certain things about Jesus that I don’t. So I know him better through hearing them pray. Utilize corporate prayer, prayer with roommates, family, or with the church. Those would be some good ways to jump-start. But it’s all based on word. There has to be word there first to feed prayer.

Question: How might you respond to someone in your life — maybe a friend or family member — who is not appreciating the essential means of grace in the Christian life?

There were some people when COVID happened in 2020 who were ready for it, thinking, “We’re going to fight for this. We’re going to be on the phone; we’re going to be texting; we’re going to have gatherings in our home.” Some people thrived in 2020. And some kind of limped by and saw for the first time what an unbelievably rich and essential means of grace it is in the Christian life to have each other. And then others drifted away.

We have people that were in our church four years ago, and they haven’t come back. Those twelve weeks that we didn’t have services together were significant to them. It was the last straw of falling back. So, what might we do for somebody who doesn’t appreciate that means? I think I’d go back to the power of our own words. It is an amazing thing to not have to coerce somebody. You can’t. Christianity does not teach forcible church attendance or conversion (though you’d be surprised what some people might want to say today when they get down about things culturally). It’s not Christian to force someone, but everybody has these holes in the side of their head. And that’s what those passages in Hebrews are talking about.

It’s striking, this power of words. I would encourage you to seek to win them through words. Could you say, “Hey, would you come this Sunday with me? Let’s go out to lunch afterward and talk”? Or in a conversation, maybe you have a chance to share something that was fresh. What fed your soul that morning? How might that come out in the conversation? “You know what I read about Jesus this morning? It said, ‘No man in the history of the world has ever opened the eyes of the blind.’ Isn’t Jesus amazing?” And you know what? That got in their ear. And maybe the Holy Spirit would be pleased to give that a flame and to draw them in.

So, think about how your words could be a means of grace. Even though they’re not committed to having their words be a means of grace in your life and others in the local body, your words could still be a means of grace for them.

I would say pray for them and pray for the things you might say to them that could breadcrumb them along. And at some point, it’s worth having the conversation. It’s worth finding a resource that might be helpful toward saying, “This is an essential means of grace in the Christian life.” You might say, “It is often forgotten in our day. A lot of times, people focus on the individual things — individual Bible intake and individual prayer — and the corporate means of grace are neglected. That’s sad. I don’t want you to miss out on that.” Seek to win them and pray for them. But, yes, it’s hard. And that’s a significant issue in our day.

Question: To what degree should we confront people regarding the means of grace and exhort people toward them?

To the degree that God has given you influence in that person’s life, to the degree that you can speak. For example, if they’re a family member, if there’s some kind of friendship commitment there, and they’ll hear from you, I think you want to encourage consistency. I would say it’s also to the degree that it’s available in a church commitment. A lot of churches have a thing called membership. That’s a good thing. You commit to each other; you make covenants, because anybody can do life when it’s easy and it’s simple and it’s fun. You make covenant commitments because you need each other when it’s hard.

That’s one of the reasons for a marriage covenant. A local church covenant is not a marriage covenant. It’s not a “till death do us part,” but it’s saying, “I am going to be the church to you. You be the church to me.” I need people to be the church to me. I need other people in my Christian life (like Jonathan was talking about). You need them. So we say, “Let’s commit together. For however long God has us in this place, we’re going to be the church to each other — in good times and bad times, sickness and health, all of that.” Encourage, if it’s possible, a covenant membership in a local church. There’s an appeal there.

Sometimes, the only appeal to people is, “You have to do this. You have to be here for the church. You have to give.” And there’s never this appeal of, “You need this. You need this so badly. You’re joining this church. You’re covenanting with this church. And there’s great joy in being God’s means of grace to others. But oh my, how you are receiving. What grace for you to benefit from that now, while you’re in your right mind spiritually.” You’re saying to people, “Hey, watch out for me. Get my back. Don’t let me have a hard, unbelieving heart. If I start going nuts spiritually, will you come get me? Would you get in my face? Would you tell me to come back?” That is a precious grace that might save a soul from hell.

So, there’s a great hedonistic appeal to a brother and sister. This is not just me saying, “Do this for others.” There’s joy in that. But this is an appeal to you. You need this. If you’re in your right mind spiritually, you need this. And if you don’t think you need it, you may not be in your right mind spiritually.

Question: What would you do if your small group was spending time together but not getting into enough substance in the Bible and prayer? Or what if people were really extroverted and needed to learn how to be alone with God?

My experience in the Twin Cities has been that there is such inertia in modern life away from people gathering that usually we all have way too much individual time. I don’t know how much television has done that to us, or cars, or modern life in general.

Here’s the thing: these categories of introverted and extroverted are fairly recent. We all need people, and we all need time alone with God. Jonathan Edwards talked about how a soul that loves Jesus loves to get time alone with him, extended time alone with him to enjoy him. And he sends us back to bless others. There’s an amazing pattern in Jesus’s life. Watch this in his life. He retreats from the masses for prayer. They didn’t have their own copies of the Bible then, so he’s probably going on memorized Scripture and meditating on Scripture. He’s communing with his Father in prayer. Jesus is perfect, and he was retreating to pray by himself to get away. But then, what does he do? He doesn’t stay there. He doesn’t go to the monastic ideal. He comes back.

There are these rhythms in his life, and maybe that’s the way to go with fellow believers. You might say, “Hey, we need some rhythms in our lives like Jesus. It’s a great thing that we’re together all the time, and that’s awesome because most people in modern life are not together enough with fellow believers. We’re getting a lot of time together. This is really good for the Christian life. And I’d like a little bit of time to feed my soul too, like Jesus. Jesus got up and got away. He retreated and he came back. Can we do some Jesus patterns in here?”

You could say, “Give me a little bit of space, and when I come back, I’ll be much better for listening and loving and ministering.” Let’s talk further if I can add some more to that.

Audio Transcript

Today’s question for episode 2001 is a book question from me, Pastor John. We like to talk books on this podcast, and in past episodes we’ve looked at seven ways books have changed your life. That testimonial was APJ 707. We’ve also talked about how 1 percent of book-insights make reading the other 99 percent worth it. That was APJ 1910. Classic point. More recently, we looked at ten of your favorite authors who write to edify the soul. That was APJ 1972.

Now, speaking of your library, I recently paged through your copy of Mortimer Adler’s classic How to Read a Book while working on my APJ book about this podcast, which comes out in February. More on that later, but as I was writing the introduction to my book, I found it instructive to see what sentences you underlined in Adler’s book, what sections you marked up, and how you jotted down notes in the front and back of the book. I noticed that you made something of your own index to your discoveries. Can you walk us through your book-marking strategy? When did you start the practice? Why do you do it? What types of marginalia are you adding to your books? And of course we all want to know: pencil or pen?

The answer is pencil, and there are reasons. I use a mechanical pencil so that it never goes dull, 0.5 millimeters. I’ll get to that in a minute.

Mortimer Adler’s How to Read a Book is one of the very few books that I have read twice. Your mentioning it gives me a good opportunity to sound a warning to people who are going to ask me or others this question: the way a person underlined and wrote in a book — whether in the margins, indexes, or whatever — twenty or forty years ago may be very different from what he does today.

That certainly is the case with me. I am amazed when I look back on how many books I read, say, thirty or forty years ago that don’t have any of my own indexing in the front flaps, because today that is the dominant way for me to keep track of insights and enjoyments that I’m getting from the book.

Handmade Indexes

By “indexing” (that’s not a very accurate phrase, and I wish I had a better one), I mean simply jotting down, with a pencil in tiny handwriting, a very short three- to eight-word description or pointer in the front flap of the book. I write about what I have read in the book, along with the page number. Sometimes I have to weave it around what’s already there. In a short book, there may be anywhere from 30 of these up to, say, 150 or more of these little notes in the flap of the book at the front or, if I have to, in the back.

“I don’t just read for pleasure. I read for a pleasure that spills over on other people.”

I think the reason I didn’t do this in the early days — and my memory’s not good, so I may be wrong — might be that I wasn’t thinking primarily of reading for the sake of writing, or reading for the sake of preaching, or reading for the sake of systematic increase of understanding of particular truths, or reading for the sake of discovery and preservation of some striking and compelling way of saying something, all of which is what I’m so keyed into now.

So now, virtually every book I read — and I’m talking print books, not electronic (which I hardly ever do) or audio (which I do all the time). I’m talking about the books I’m going through all the time, the ones sitting on my chairs. I’m always reading something in print. That’s what I do. And all these books — I index them.

Even fiction. People say, “Oh, you’re kidding me. You read a novel with a pencil in your hand?” Yes, I do. I can’t read without a pencil in my hand. I’m not going to spend time reading, even fiction, if there is no life-giving insight or striking expression of reality worth preserving. Seriously, I don’t just read for pleasure. I read for a pleasure that spills over on other people, because that’s the biggest pleasure. “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

I read too slowly, and my life is too short, to read without the hope that what I’m reading will help me to think more clearly, to feel more fully, and to express more compellingly the glories of God in the word and in the world — and all of that is worth preserving in some way. It has been good to discover this about myself.

Reading Like a Teacher

I don’t presume, by the way, to suggest that everyone should be like this, but I realized along the way that my built-in, God-given impulse, my dominant impulse, is not to read, but to write and speak. To say it more generally, my bent is not to take in what others have created, but to be a creator. That’s just my bent. I want to make something new, usually with words, which means that all of my intake increasingly has become fuel for my own creation — for sermons, articles, books, poems, and devotions.

Now, I know this can be dangerous. There’s a big yellow flag here. I warned my students at Bethlehem College & Seminary, “Do not read the Bible in the morning just in order to produce a sermon on Sunday. Christ is glorious and precious and to be trusted in the very last hours of our lives when we can do nothing with his beauty but enjoy it on our way into heaven.” Yes and amen. So, don’t just be a user. Be an enjoyer of what you read. Savor it. Love it. Exult in it.

However, I believe that one of the evidences of the spiritual gift of teaching is that a person can scarcely prevent his mind from taking everything he reads and instinctively, without even trying, asking himself, “How would I say this? How would I say this in my own words? How would I explain this to other people? How would I illustrate it and live it? How does it fit into the framework of my own thought — or does it? Do I need to change my framework?”

This is why I not only index my books, but I keep a little field notebook (that I buy in packs of five from Amazon) beside my chair on my desk. This way, when I get a thought or an idea that stirs me up to think out my own train of thought, I have a place to put it. I have a place to write it down quickly.

There’s something about the mind of a teacher that can’t just hear things or read things and leave them. He’s got to do something with it. So, you can see what a huge impact that’s going to have on how I mark up my books.

Three Things to Index

Now, what goes into those indexes? Here are just a few thoughts.

One: fresh insights into my life or into life in general. My index for a biography of C.S. Lewis, for example, which I just took down from the shelf, has a notation at the front, from page xxiii, where he said, “Without self-forgetfulness, there can be no delight.” That got three asterisks in the margin. It got a notation in the front flap, and I’ve been thinking about it for twenty years. I mean, if that’s true, what an agenda for those of us who are pursuing delight in life. So, fresh insights — we mark them, we note them, we meditate on them, we try to grow into them.

Two: raw facts. If I’m reading a biography, and if I know I’ve got to give a talk about it, or if I want to use it in a devotion, I want to be able to spot birth, conversion, marriage, employment, controversies, death, and impact. That way, when I run my eyes down the front flap, I can get an outline of his life, and quick. I don’t have to go researching all over the place and say, “Now, when did he die? When was he born? When was he converted? When did he get married?”

“Pay attention, be engaged, be an active reader — even if you will never look at these pages again.”

Three: great illustrations, ones that might be useful to giving a striking impression of a viewpoint, even a viewpoint we disagree with. For example, I’m reading a book right now called Biblical Critical Theory. I’m about two hundred pages into it, and on page 196, I wrote a little index in the front about Jean-Paul Sartre on atheism. He said, “Everything is indeed permitted if God does not exist, and man is in consequence forlorn, for he cannot find anything to depend upon either within or without outside himself.” That’s a quote.

Now, I thought, that’s a serious confession from an atheist. It’s out of his mouth, it’s footnoted, and it’s tragic. It’s just tragic, and it will probably make its way into some sermon, article, or book someday. (Though I don’t mean to give the impression, with this idea of indexing, that that’s all I do. I do underline, and I still make comments in the margin, ones like “great” or “baloney.”)

Why Annotate

And yes, I use a pencil, not a pen. Here’s what happened. About thirty years ago, I took a box of used books to Loome Bookstore in Stillwater, Minnesota, to sell them. They would not even look at the books that had marginalia in ink. It was a principle. It was a law. I don’t know all the reasons for it, but that’s one reason.

My main reason is that I am fallible. I make mistakes. I want to go back and erase the word “baloney” because two pages later he explains himself, and I was wrong. It’s not baloney. I don’t want to memorialize my mistake with a pen.

One of the main functions of underlining and marking in the margins is simply to help me pay attention. That’s the big reason for underlining, for me anyway, and for putting notes in the margin: pay attention, be engaged, be an active reader — even if you will never look at these pages again (which is true for most of the pages that I read).

So, I think the main takeaway from this episode, Tony, is this: Know why you read. Know what you are reading right now. Then adapt your markings to fit your purpose.