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.

One quiet evening many years ago, I was sitting on the screened-in porch of our old family cottage when I heard the music of bagpipes. Curious, I followed the sound, which me led as far as I could go, down to the shore of the lake.  Somewhere across the water, I could hear the piper playing. The evening was quiet and the lake was still, and the sound carried so well that I could hear every haunting note with perfect clarity. Though I could not see him, it was as if he was playing right beside me.

I sat for a time to listen, quietly singing along from time to time as he played songs that told of the great deeds of Scotland the Brave, songs that yearned for The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond and, inevitably, songs that recounted God’s Amazing Grace. That night was only the first of many times he provided us with impromptu concerts, and the more I heard him play the more I grew curious to know who and where he was. One evening I finally decided to find this mysterious piper, so I got into my canoe and began paddling across the lake. I had assumed that because of the volume and clarity of the music he must be close by, but no matter how far I went, he was still just a little further ahead. The music, it seemed, was carried almost endlessly across the placid surface of the lake.
In the past year, no place has been more on my heart and no subject more on my mind than heaven. I have known about heaven since my youngest days and believed in it for as long as I have believed in anything. But my knowledge has always been abstract and my interest has always been distant. Heaven was for later, not for now, a subject that should concern me only when I was older, only when I myself was near to dying. And that was true until a single moment made heaven so very real and so very urgent.
It still shocks me to write the words: I have a son in heaven. There is much that is mysterious about heaven, much that remains opaque as we study the scriptures with clouded eyes and weakened minds. But one thing we can know with absolute certainty is that heaven is a place of music, a place of singing, a place of great orchestras and mighty choirs. In John’s revelation of what is and what is to be, he sees musicians and describes their music. He listens as choirs of men and angels sing out their praises to God. He marvels as the nations gather to fall on their faces and cry out in worship. He rejoices hearing the voice of a vast multitude singing “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.” Whatever else is true of heaven, it is most certainly a place of music.
Of all the “normal” things I found difficult to return to in the aftermath of Nick’s death, singing was near the forefront, and particularly singing with the local church. There is something about joining voices and joining hearts with other Christians that is so very moving. I still often find a lump growing in my throat and tears springing to my eyes when we sing together. It is rare that I can get through the songs without being nearly overcome by my emotions. And I can’t help but think the reason is that the singing we do in our little congregation is not merely a foretaste of our worship in that great heavenly congregation, but a real participation in it. There is a  sense in which our worship extends far beyond the four walls of our little building and reaches to the very gates of heaven.
Christians have long affirmed what we call “the communion of the saints.” We profess that God has one people, not two. And though for a time his church exists partially triumphant in heaven and partially militant on earth, it is truly undivided, for we have all been permanently joined together through our living Savior. We profess this reality in some of our best-loved songs. In “For All the Saints,” for example, we who are on earth tell of the unity we have with those who are in heaven:
Oh, bless’d communion, fellowship divine!We feebly struggle, they in glory shine,yet all are one in thee, for all are thine.Alleluia, alleluia!
In “The Church’s One Foundation” we sing of the mysterious but still real fellowship we enjoy.
Yet she on earth hath unionWith God the Three in One,And mystic sweet communionWith those whose rest is won:O happy ones and holy!Lord, give us grace that we,Like them, the meek and lowly,In love may dwell with Thee.
And in “Blest Be the Tie That Binds” we express the truth that even through the pain of separation our unity remains undisrupted.
When we are called to part,it gives us inward pain;but we shall still be joined in heart,and hope to meet again.
Because we are joined to Christ, we are joined to one another and can have a sure and steady confidence that we shall meet again. And oh, I long to meet my boy again. I long to see him, long to hug him, long to hear his voice. I long to worship with him as we did so many times over so many years. I repent of ever thinking little of the privilege it was to stand as a family—a complete family—to worship our God together.
But I rejoice that in a very real sense we still do worship together, for we are bound together by the “blest tie” of our shared love for Christ. I have heard it said that when we sing today we are preparing ourselves to take our place in that heavenly choir. While that’s true, it’s not entirely true, for there is a sense that when we sing today we are really and truly taking our place in that great assembly. We are joining our voices together as Christ’s one people, Christ’s one church, Christ’s one choir.
And so, when I stand with God’s people to sing God’s praises, I have a new awareness that I do not sing alone. We as a church do not sing alone. Rather, when we lift our voices, we join them with the singing voices of the saints of all the ages. The earthly and the heavenly, the militant and the triumphant, the ones longing for Christ’s presence and the ones basking in it sing as one, for we are one. And as I sing I listen, for I am sure that in my heart I am beginning to hear my voice joining with Nick’s as we each take up our place in the very same choir. As the piper’s music once carried across the lake and reached my ear, the strains of heaven’s music carry across time and space to touch my heart and give me hope.

Good morning. Grace and peace to you.

There is a good collection of Kindle deals to look at today, headlined by a group of books for women published by Crossway.
(Yesterday on the blog: Great God, Is Life Such an Uncertain Thing?)
The last leaf
Andrée Seu Peterson: “The pestilence angel, no respecter of persons vaxxed or unvaxxed, winged her way to the right address, didn’t knock first, and unpacked her assorted wares: fever, congestion, fatigue, joint aches, and head pains. My father, 97, got a double portion.”
The “priestly caste” of America’s artistic elite
Carl Trueman offers another of his reflections on modern culture. “Goldberg is representative of so many progressively minded people in the media class who talk as other people tweet—with no sense of responsibility, no sensitivity to other people, and no real grasp of what constitutes an argument or even the truth.”
He’s Got This
Sandra Jantzi: “The simplicity of my trust in him causes me to pause. I was fortunate to have a father that never left me wondering if he would take care of me. I realize now what a blessing that is.If only I would think of God in that way.”
Why is “Re-Converting” Easier than Repenting?
“Let me tell you a familiar story from my days in evangelical youth ministry.” Samuel James recounts a story that may sound vaguely familiar to many…
Scalable Platforms
“Many missionaries in the 10/40 window live in what’s been called creative-access countries. In these countries there are no missionary or religious visas available to cross-cultural workers, so they need to have ‘platforms,’ whether business or non-profit, in order to maintain legitimate access.” This becomes an interesting reflection on scalability.
We Didn’t Want the Disruption
“We had life just the way we wanted. Sure, there were things in life that could’ve been better. No life is perfect; there are always things needing updated or changed. But for the most part, life was good. We may have given lip service to God but it was never more than that. Maybe we would pray when something bad happened and, well, something had to be our last resort. It just so happened to be the Creator of the universe.”
Flashback: What Do Hitmen and Porn Watchers Have in Common?
Isn’t it the very height of insanity to expect that people who produce and distribute pornography would care even a little about ethics and morality?

I pray that Christ would always fill me with his grace, hold me by his hand and use me ever in his service. —William Spurstowe

In the late 1800s, there were few American preachers who were better-known than De Witt Talmage (who spend most of his ministry at Central Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York). He was known as an orator and was perhaps second only to Henry Ward Beecher when it came to his ability to hold a crowd at rapt attention. Logos recently released a collection of 500 of his sermons and I’ve been enjoying reading my way through them. This excerpt, one of many in which he expresses concern for the souls of his listeners, recently caught my attention:

There are some who gave me a farewell shake of the hand when I went off two months ago who are not here today. Where are they? When in the closing service I opened my hymn-book and found the place, they opened their hymn-book and found the same place. I open my book today; they do not open theirs.
Great God, is life such an uncertain thing? If I bear a little too hard with my right foot on the earth, does it break through into the grave? Is this world which swings at the speed of thousands of miles an hour around about the sun going with tenfold more speed towards the judgment day? Oh, I am overborne with the thought, and in the confusion I cry to one and I cry to the other; “O time! O eternity! O the dead! O the judgment day! O Jesus! O God!”
But catching at the last apostrophe, I feel that I have something to hold on to; for “in God is thy refuge, and underneath thee are the everlasting arms.” And exhausted with my failure to save myself, I throw my whole weight of body, mind, and soul on this Divine promise, as a weary child throws itself into the arms of its mother; as a wounded soldier throws himself on the hospital pillow; as a pursued man throws himself into the refuge: for “in God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.”
I can speak no more for the gladness. Oh for a flood of tears with which to express the joy of this eternal rescue!
Note: If you decide to dabble in Talmage’s sermons, I’d recommend beginning with volume 3 rather than 1 or 2. By my assessment, the collection begins with some of his weakest sermons and only later turns to some of the strongest.

This week Westminster Books hosted the bookstore for the Bethlehem Conference for Pastors. Now they’re offering 50% off some of their favorite books featured at the event.

(Yesterday on the blog: You’re Only Human)
Grave words
Kim Henderson considers tombstones and how they can preach to us even decades or centuries later.
A Call for Theological Humility
Gain Ortlund: “We must engage those with whom we have theological disagreements with humility, asking questions to make sure we understand, remembering that we don’t see things perfectly, and always seeking to grow in understanding where we may have blind spots.”
Love the people the Lord has given you, not the ones you hope to have
“There has been a sad tendency to really look for particular kinds of people who currently aren’t in the room to join the church the Lord has given us, rather than to love the specific people the Lord has already given us.” This is a reminder to love the people the Lord has actually provided.
How Great (Psalm 145)
Here is quite a nice new rendition of Psalm 145.
Cactus Spines and Groaning
John considers the painful groaning that goes on in our world. “Our groaning is not grumbling, but rather lamenting. Our lamenting God invites us to lament with him.”
Why Spiritual Habits Are Good
“We need to have daily routines for hygiene, eating, work, chores, and devotions. My friend Rev. Clint Davis always tells us, ‘two things you have to plan into your day is your exercise and your quiet time. If you don’t plan them into your day, they will not get done.’ I have found this true in my prayer and Bible reading.” Habits matter!
Flashback: Biographies for People Who Have Never Read a Biography
Today I want to offer just a few suggestions and recommendations for people who are approaching biography for the first time, or for the first time in a long while.

It is difficult to see how Christianity can have any positive effect on society if it cannot transform its own homes. —John MacArthur

This week’s Free Stuff Friday is sponsored by Radius International.  They are giving away a conference package that includes: 2 tickets, a Radius pullover, and 2 books.

The winner will receive two free tickets to the Radius Missiology Conference being held June 29-30, 2022, at Christ Covenant Church, Matthews, NC. This event will be live in person or available as a live stream. Kevin DeYoung, Alistair Begg, Ian Hamilton, Wayne Chen, Brooks Buser, Chad Vegas, and others from the Radius world will be live and in-person to teach on the Great Commission in today’s world with free books from 9Marks, Banner of Truth, and others.
The winner will receive a Radius International branded pullover. Size and gender option to be selected by the winner from available stock.
The winners will also receive two books that Radius International highly recommends:

No Shortcut to Success
A Manifesto for Modern Missions
By Matt Rhodes
Avoid “Get-Rich-Quick” Missions Strategies and Invest in Effective, Long-Term Ministry
Trendy new missions strategies are a dime a dozen, promising missionaries monumental results in record time. These strategies report explosive movements of people turning to Christ, but their claims are often dubious and they do little to ensure the health of believers or churches that remain. How can churches and missionaries address the urgent need to reach unreached people without falling for quick fixes?
In No Shortcut to Success, author and missionary Matt Rhodes implores Christians to stop chasing silver-bullet strategies and short-term missions, and instead embrace theologically robust and historically demonstrated methods of evangelism and discipleship—the same ones used by historic figures such as William Carey and Adoniram Judson. These great missionaries didn’t rush evangelism; they spent time studying Scripture, mastering foreign languages, and building long-term relationships. Rhodes explains that modern missionaries’ emphasis on minimal training and quick conversions can result in slipshod evangelism that harms the communities they intend to help. He also warns against underestimating the value of individual skill and effort—under the guise of “getting out of the Lord’s way”—and empowers Christians with practical, biblical steps to proactively engage unreached groups.

Missions By The Book
How Theology and Missions Walk Together
by Chad Vegas and Alex Kocman
Across the church, there is a rift between theology and missions. Bad theology produces bad missions, and bad missions fuels bad theology.
We wrongly think that we must choose between making a global impact and thinking deeply about the things of God. But the relationship between theology and missions is symbiotic—one cannot exist without the other. They walk hand-in-hand.

Enter Here
Again, there is one package to win. And all you need to do to enter the draw is to drop your name and email address in the form below.
Giveaway Rules: You may enter one time. Winners will be notified by email. The giveaway closes on Sunday, Feb 6th, 2022 at midnight.

You know as well as I do that you are a finite being. Yet you know as well as I do that at times you fight against your finitude, you battle against your inevitable limits and boundaries as if they are a problem to be overcome or even a sin to be repented of. Yet what if your limits are not a bug but a feature of your humanity? What if these limitations are God’s gift and, therefore, good and worthy of embrace? These are the kinds of questions Kelly Kapic wants you to consider through his new book You’re Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God’s Design and Why That’s Good News.

There are times in life when we all run into the reality of our finitude. Whether it’s through weakness or illness, whether it’s through loss or failure, whether it’s through seeing that others are smarter than we are or that others are more capable than we are, we must all at some point face our limitations. We can’t know it all, we can’t do it all, we can’t be it all. Yet “the odd thing is that, even when we run into our inevitable limits, we often hang on to the delusion that if we just work harder, if we simply squeeze tighter, if we become more efficient, we can eventually regain control.” Peace comes only when we embrace finitude as an unavoidable part of being creatures rather than the Creator. This is how we were designed and there is nothing we can do to change it. There’s nothing we should do to even attempt to change it.
There is something deep in the heart of humanity that prompts us to rebel against our finitude, against the reality that we are dependent creatures who cannot exist for a day, or even a moment, apart from God. The very first sin was a rebellion against limits God had imposed on humanity and in some way that was the prototype for every sin that has followed. But what if we were to see that dependency upon God is a gift, not a deficiency? What if we were to go farther and actually embrace our limits and thank God for them, then live at peace with all the things we cannot do and cannot be?
In this book, Kapic says he wants “us to take time to carefully think about our creatureliness. This will reveal limits, dependence, love, reliance on the grace of God, and worship. We will examine the joy of being a creature and the freedom of resting on the promises of the Creator. We will question harmful and unrealistic ideals and begin to appreciate the messiness of our complex lives.” It is only when we come to see the sheer goodness of our limitedness that we can begin to relate properly as finite creatures before an infinite Creator and “worship him as he made us: dignified, purposeful, vulnerable, finite creatures. We do not apologize for our creaturely needs and dependence on others, for we discover this is how God made us, and it is good.”
Kapic does this by considering what God thinks of us in our limitations and considering the humanity of Jesus Christ. He considers the human body and what it says about our limitations and then considers identity in the context of family, culture, and our particular historical setting. With this groundwork in place, he considers humility, time, the process of change, the local church, and living faithfully as believers in Jesus Christ. By the end he has called his readers to see and believe that we were meant to live within our limitations and to live with dependency upon God. “God made us to be limited creatures, able to freely participate in his work, confident in his presence, and grateful for his promises and provision. Let us appreciate the goodness of our finitude as we rest in the love and provision of our infinitely good God. May it be so.” May it be so, indeed.
Kapic makes it clear in this book that it is a passion project, the culmination of many years of reflecting on the subject of finitude. That passion and depth of reflection is obvious from cover to cover and leads to a book that deep in its theology and profound in its teaching. It is at once comforting and challenging. Sinclair Ferguson summarizes it well when he says, “no hastily prepared, cheap-fix antidote, You’re Only Human is the product of years of reflection and concern, the work of a mature Christian theologian and a fine teacher. It is a love gift to the church.” I, like he, am glad to recommend it.

Buy from Amazon

May the Lord be with you and bless you today.

If There Wasn’t a Sermon About It, Does Your Pastor Even Care?
Trevin Wax addresses what is an urgent concern to many pastors. “I thought about ‘Justice Sunday’ recently because of the questions many faithful pastors have these days about when to speak, and on what subjects, and how best to engage in cultural disputes or political questions. Social media has increased the pressure to speak and advocate, as we have faster and easier connection to various opinions on a wide range of issues.”
Bible Gateway Removes The Passion Translation
“A Bible version designed to ‘recapture the emotion of God’s Word’ was removed from Bible Gateway last week. The Passion Translation (TPT) is listed as ‘no longer available’ among the site’s 90 English-language Bible offerings.” This article is about the removal of The Passion Translation which I’d guess few of you read. But past that, it has lots of interesting things to say about Bible translation philosophies.
Join Alistair Begg @ RMC22 Speaking on “Finishing Well.”
June 29-30, 2022, Matthews NC. As a pastor who has sent his church members through Radius, we are encouraged to have Alistair Begg as one of our plenary speakers. We look forward to his session on the challenge and the glory of finishing well in the task of missions. (Sponsored Link)
Great God Above Beheld Below
I’ve been enjoying this new song by Sow and Tether.
Jesus and John Wayne
This review has much to commend it, but I was especially interested in what it has to say about the confluence between history and love. “Schweiger argues that the Christian historian has a duty to love the historical subjects she studies, who are now dead. This love is not sentimental, nor does this love absolve the subjects of their sins. Loving the dead means we tell the truth about them, as far as it is possible given our limitations and the complexities of the past. And we love the dead for their own sakes, rather than for some utilitarian purpose we might have for them.”
The Paradox of Parenting and How To Trust God More
“From the moment our babies leave the safety and protection of the womb, we are literally and figuratively pushing them out. They can’t stay in the nest forever, and this brings us joy and sadness. Isn’t this the paradox of parenting? The more we want to hold on to them, the more time reveals we have to keep letting them go, little by little.”
Pastor, Take a Break Before You Quit
Jared Wilson has lots of good things to say here about pastors and sabbaticals.
Flashback: The Character of the Christian: Hospitable
An open home displays Christian love but it also enables it. Hospitality creates opportunities for relationship, for discipleship, and for evangelism. It creates a natural context for modeling marriage, parenting, and a host of Christian virtues.

Let the past sleep, but let it sleep on the bosom of Christ. Leave the irreparable past in His hands, and step out into the irresistible future with Him. —Oswald Chambers

Good morning! Grace and peace to you.

Westminster Books has a heavy-duty new set of books on sale.
(Yesterday on the blog: The God Who Counts the Cost)
Music And Lyrics
“The world is a symphony: exquisite and detailed and beautiful. But for all of its music, there is one thing that the world cannot supply on its own. The world has music—but it doesn’t have lyrics. That’s where we come in.”
Coming Home (Video)
You’ll enjoy this catchy new song from Drew & Ellie Holcomb.
Redemptive Force
Those who preach may appreciate the terminology of “redemptive force” that Peter Mead uses here.
What About the “Lost” Books of the Bible?
“In modern studies of the NT canon, there is a lot of discussion (maybe even obsession!) with so-called ‘lost’ books of the Bible.” Michael Kruger explains why they may not be quite as lost as we are so often told.
High Schoolers Can Be Church Members, Too
“Student ministries like other age-based ministries tend to help students value Jesus but fail when it comes to helping students value the local church.” This article is meant to address that failure.
Adversity Anniversaries
Aimee Joseph: “It does not surprise me that calendars don’t include ‘Adversity Anniversary’ among their Hair Appointment and Birthday reminder stickers, as there is not much cute or marketable about remembering devastating days.”
Flashback: Should Young Pastors Prefer a Large or Small Church?
Are you willing to minister in obscurity where you can come to know what it is to pastor precious souls, where you can lay a firm foundation of knowledge and skill, where you can finish the preparation that seminary merely began?

If a man is ready and prepared to die, sudden death is in effect no death, but a quick and speedy entrance to eternal life. —William Perkins

We are nothing if not rash—nothing if not prone to making vows that are impulsive, promises we cannot keep. Sometimes we deliver on them only partially and at other times we fail altogether. “It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not pay,” says the Sage. But too often we do exactly that—we fail utterly to pay what we owe, to come through as we have promised. This is true of our greatest vows and our smallest, our most significant and least consequential.

Jesus once told a tiny parable about being rash and about properly counting the cost before making a commitment. “Which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?” He followed it with another: “What king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand?”
He was calling upon his followers—and potential followers—to consider the cost of discipleship, to understand that to follow him would exact a toll in suffering, pain, and persecution. To say “yes” to him was to say “yes” to bearing his cross. And so he wanted them to think, to consider, to understand what they were committing to. He wanted to protect them from hasty declarations of faith, from promises they would not keep.
What is true of our promise to follow God is true of every other promise we make—we must count the cost, for it is a sin to be rash. It is our sin and weakness that causes us to promise and not pay, to vow and then not come through. And this is no small thing, for failure is associated with folly. “When you vow a vow to God, do not delay paying it, for he has no pleasure in fools. Pay what you vow.” It is a fool who promises what is beyond his capacity to deliver and a fool who promises and then simply shrugs off his commitment.
Yet there is no rashness in the greatest of all promise-makers. God has made the most promises and the promises that are of the greatest magnitude. He has promised to take away our sin so that we are every bit as pure and holy as his Son; he has promised to be present with us through our deepest trials and most trying circumstances; he has promised to never leave us nor forsake us; he has promised that he is working all things for good; he has promised that at the end of our days we will find that to die is merely to sleep and that to close our eyes here is to open them in heaven; he has promised to destroy the enemy, to cleanse the world, and to raise his people to life eternal.
And we can have complete confidence that the Promise-Maker will prove to be the Promise-Keeper, for before he made the least of these promises, he counted the cost. He promised nothing that was beyond his capacity to deliver, nothing that could be thwarted by time, enemy, or circumstance, nothing that was rash, impossible, or in the least bit doubtful. That is true even when he made promises and declarations as substantive, as total, as these: “I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done. … My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose. … I have spoken, and I will bring it to pass; I have purposed, and I will do it.”
And so we can have every confidence in him. God will no more fulfill half a promise than build half a tower and no more come through on half a vow than fight half a battle. For he has considered his abilities, he has reviewed his resources, he has pondered the impediments, and having done all of that, he has spoken with the greatest care and declared with the highest certainty. He will be true to his every word and he is worthy of our highest confidence.

Inspired in part by F.B. Meyer