A question I am asked quite often goes something like this: “Do you ever have a day where you just do not want to write anything?” Are there ever days when the absolute last thing I want to do is to sit down and write? I can answer, quite honestly I think, that this happens only very rarely. There are definitely times where I don’t feel like I have much to say (and some would argue more than others, I suppose, about how often this happens) but there are very few days where I don’t care to write at all. The reasons is simple, really, and is something I’ve expressed often. Writing has become a critical part of my spiritual development. I write about things I’ve learned, and the desire to keep having things to write continually motivates me to seek to learn more. I think Saint Augustine said this best: “I am the sort of man who writes because he has made progress, and who makes progress by writing.”

I love those words. They inspire me to see writing not only as a way of gaining more knowledge, but as a way of marking the progress of applying any knowledge I’ve acquired. I do not want to be a person who knows a lot but who has little ability to apply what I’ve learned or to use it to draw closer to God. Intellectual development may be important and may be gratifying, but it is a lousy end in itself. Rather, I see the pursuit of knowledge as the means to a greater end—glorifying and enjoying God. I write when I learn and learn by writing. There isn’t much I know that I haven’t written about.

So no, there are few days when I just can’t consider writing…

(A person who argues that everything I wrote here was just an excuse to share the quote from Augustine would probably be pretty well correct.)

One of the unexpected blessings of writing this blog is that it sets in stone (so to speak—it’s actually more like pixels) things that I’ve believed and things that I’ve felt. I use the blog, in some ways, as a record of spiritual development. I return quite often to articles I’ve written in the past to challenge myself anew or to recount God’s grace in my life.

A couple of years ago, a friend of mine who was a former co-worker and manager, succumbed to leukemia. It had actually been a few years since Mike and I had worked together and we had seen each other only occasionally since the company we had both worked for shut down. I found out about the leukemia through his wife who included me in the updates she would send out every week or two in order to keep friends and family appraised of his condition. I read these with increasing delight as he began to show positive signs of recovery, and with horror as the disease rallied and began to destroy him. I went to his home once to fix his wife’s computer. Mike was in the hospital at that time and his wife was nearly overwhelmed. “You know God, right? Tim, you’ve got to pray for us!” she cried out at one point. And I did.

I got in to the hospital to see Mike just once. Because of his weakened condition only visitors who were very healthy were allowed to visit him. We sat and talked and recounted old times. I wanted to know about Mike’s spiritual condition. It was obvious by that point that he was unlikely to survive his illness and I was concerned to know about his standing with the Lord. But before I could really ask him, a nurse swept into the room and told me the visit was over—Mike had to have some kind of awful but all-too-regular procedure. Mike soon took a turn for the worse and, after ten days in the palliative ward, he died. The day after I received the notice from his wife that he had been admitted to the palliative ward I sat down and wrote an article that continues to haunt me. It went like this:

How does a man say goodbye to his little girls, knowing that he will never see them again? And how does he do so without letting them know that this is the last time they will see their daddy? Does he look them straight in the eyes and affirm his undying love for them, or do words fail him so that he can do little more than hug and kiss them for the last time and then send them on their way? Does he still hold out hope that he will see them again? Or does he know in his heart of hearts that this is the end? Maybe he is so worn down from his long fight with cancer that he can barely feel or express emotion anymore. Maybe he just wants to be gone.

Yesterday I heard from the wife of my friend Mike that he has been accepted into the Palliative ward of a local hospital. It was almost exactly one year ago that he was diagnosed with leukemia and since that time all treatments have failed. At this point all they can do is attempt to relieve his suffering as he succumbs to the disease. His body will probably not hold out for another week. Soon he will leave his wife and his little girls on their own.

Those little girls are five and three - the same as my children. Mike has been married as long as I've been married and is around the same age. A couple of years older, I guess. But he isn't all that much different than me. I guess that's why his approaching death is so real; so vivid.

I wonder if the girls knew. Sometimes we do not give children enough credit. Maybe their intuition told them that something was happening. Probably not. Hopefully not. I hope all they know is that daddy is going back to the hospital and that they are going to spend a week with grandma. How are they supposed to guess, after the hundreds of times daddy has gone to the hospital, that this is his last time? How can they know that they have given daddy their final kiss? Will they even remember him when they are all grown up? Or will daddy be only a face in photographs who brings a lump to the throat, even after so many years?

As far as I know, Mike does not know the Lord. We had plenty of opportunities to talk about spiritual matters when we worked for the same company and I don't think Mike ever understood the value of a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. If anything I'd say Mike was more a follower of Dr. Phil than of Jesus. There is not much I wouldn't give at this point to be able to go and and ask him exactly what he believes. The imminence of death would surely give me the boldness I lacked even a couple of months ago when I last sat with him.

So now I sit here at the time when it is too late, wondering why I did not do more. Sure I told the family that I was praying for them and asked if I could pray with them. And sure I tried to get Mike to think about preparing for eternity. But I did so in such a pathetic way. Such a half-hearted way. I burn with shame as I write these words thinking of all I didn't do and didn't say. I feel burdened with guilt that Mike is days or maybe even hours away from standing before God, and that I did not make one clear, strong presentation of the gospel. I failed him. And I failed God.

Do you know what may be even worse? The likelihood that I'll get over it. Two days from now I probably won't even think of Mike. I'll get busy with my life and the guilt will ease away. In a week or two I guess I'll attend his funeral and feel this guilt again, but a few days after that I'll conveniently put Mike out of my mind and go back to life. But you know what? I don't want to get over it!

Truly I don't.

This burden I feel right now - why can't I feel this same burden for the lost all the time? Why is it a burden birthed from guilt rather than from a desire to see the lost be saved? I've asked God to tell me why. The only answer I find is the hardness of my own heart.

Still, with hope in my heart I pray for Mike, that maybe, just maybe, there will be someone in that hospital who can reach out to him with the message I failed to bring. Maybe God will bring to Mike's mind some fragment of Scripture he heard as a child, or some words I shared with him years ago. Maybe. Hopefully.

With hopeful sadness I pray for Mike's family, that somehow God would use this awful situation to draw them to Himself. That somehow God would make His presence felt and provide meaning through the pain.

And then with tears I pray for myself, that God would not allow this burden to disappear, but that he would use my shortcomings to teach me how I can do better next time, not simply to avoid this crushing, burning guilt, but to use the opportunities He provides.

Because I just don't want to get over it. Oh God, please don't let me get over it!

As I indicated, I return to this article fairly frequently. It stands as a reminder to me. It stands as a pillar of sorts, a reminder of a time that I did not take an opportunity that was given to me and a time that I feared men more than God. It allows me to remember the crushing guilt and the burning shame. It allows me to remember that I cried out to God not to let me commit the same sin again.

But it is also an opportunity to cast myself at the foot of the cross and to remember that Christ died to forgive even a sin like this. It is an opportunity to hope that someone, anyone, reached Mike with the gospel before he was called to account. And it is an opportunity to reaffirm that God is sovereign and that if Mike was to be counted among the people of God, the Lord would have used any means to reach out to one of His children. Despite my faithlessness, He is faithful.

As seems to be the case with most children, my friends and I went through a stage where we found great joy in tying people to things. In second or third grade we would take turns being the guys who would grab the skipping ropes and twist endless knots, fastening one of our friends to a tree or fence or flag pole. And, of course, we would take turns being the unfortunate one who was on the receiving end of the action. I remember one time when I was, thankfully, not the one being tied. It was recess, and we had only a few minutes to have our fun. We had tied a friend to a tree and it was now his time to play Houdini and escape from the ties. But something went wrong—we had tied him up too well. He struggled to get undone but could make little progress. And then, from across the school yard, the bell rang. We were torn. Should we help our friend and risk detention for being late to class? Or should we forsake our friend and look out first for ourselves? Typical children that we were, we left our friend struggling with the ropes and dashed for the door. A few minutes later he walked meekly into class, late and knowing there would be consequences.

I thought of this incident yesterday in what was a rather unlikely context. In our church’s evening service, a service that culminated in the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, we sang Stuart Townend’s hymn “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us.” Like all good hymns, this one gives a lot to think about; it contains deep and biblical content. As we sang it, I was struck by the words “It was my sin that held him there.” As we sang those words I found my mind bouncing to some of the other occasions in Jesus’ life, times when He escaped pain or death.

There were several occasions in Jesus’ life when He escaped the wrath of His enemies. For example, in John 8:56-59 Jesus called Himself by the name “I am,” utter blasphemy to the Jewish nation, and cause for death. Though they picked up stones with which to execute Him (in the temple, no less), he managed to hide Himself and to make His way out of the temple. Just a short time later, in John 10:31-39 we read that people picked up rocks and sought to stone Him. But Jesus escaped their attempts to arrest Him and to put Him to death. This was the pattern, for a while. The people would misinterpret Jesus, accusing Him of blasphemy one time and seeking to make Him king the next. Jesus would escape or rebuke to ensure that His mission did not get derailed.

But then came the Garden of Gethsemane. Peter, drawing his sword and swinging at one of the men, clearly thought this was going to be another chance for Jesus to slip away from His accusers. But Jesus knew that this time would be different. “Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53). With only a single word, Jesus could have summoned to his defense more than twelve legions of angels. Look to the Old Testament and you will see the kind of devastation that could be brought about by twelve legions of angels. With a single word Jesus could have caused the heavenly host that sang of His birth spring to His defense. But He did not. This was true in the Garden, in the court, and on the hill. This was true as the spikes were nailed into His body and as the cross was raised to the sky.

Some words that I first pondered a few years and that have continued to be deeply affecting to me are found in Matthew 27:50: “And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit.” The amazing thing about these words is that they show us that Jesus was in control of the timing of His death. Though the nails had pierced His hands and feet, and though He had been beaten to be point of being almost unrecognizable, He died only when He decided to yield up His spirit. In his account of the crucifixion, John says Jesus "gave up His spirit." This was an active, not a passive act. The significance of this wording is that it shows that Jesus was in control of the timing of His death. He did not die because His body could take no more punishment or because of blood loss. He died because He decided it was time to die. His work was accomplished and there was no reason for Him to linger. And so he gave up His spirit and returned to His Father.

All of this tells me that Townend is right—it was not the nails that held Jesus to the cross. He could so easily have escaped the cross and, even if He decided to go there, could just as easily have escaped from the cross. He could have stepped down and watched as His angels gained vengeance on the heartless men who had nailed Him to that tree. But He did not. Jesus remained there until the work was accomplished. He stayed there until He had done the work His Father had assigned Him. He stayed there until He had secured the redemption of all of His people. It was not the nails that held Him, but His love for the Father and His love for us. It was my sin that held Him there in the deepest expression of love the world could ever know. It was death by love.

The key to it all comes from John 10:17-18. “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.” No one took Jesus’ life from Him. He did not lose it, He gave it.

How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He would give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One
Bring many sons to glory

Behold the Man upon a cross
My guilt upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished

I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no powr’s, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

Of all the questions that find their way into my inbox, I don’t know that any topic receives more attention than reading. I get a lot of questions from people asking if I’ve read or can recommend certain titles, but also a lot of questions just about reading—how to do it and how to do it more. A couple of days ago, a friend and long-time reader of this site (one of this site’s very first readers, in fact) asked me a few questions about my “excessive reading”—why and how I read and asked if I would address these questions in an article. Having nothing better to write about today, I thought I would do just that. His questions will be in italics and will be followed by my replies. I hope you are able to find this interesting and perhaps even helpful.

I don’t really know how much I read. I suppose it would probably amount to roughly two to three books per week when averaged over the course of a year. By the end of the calendar year I typically find myself burning out a little bit and may not pick up a book for even a few weeks at a time. I write reviews of the majority of the books I read, though there are some I choose not to review. Sometimes I simply do not understand a book enough to adequately review it or sometimes I can think of nothing particularly interesting to say about it. Some books I do not review because I doubt that anyone else would be interested in those titles. I do most of my reading in the morning and the evening. After I wake up and spend some time in personal devotions, I either hit the couch or my exercise bike and try to read for half an hour to an hour. In the evenings I tend to open up a book after I’ve put the children to bed and try to get in an hour or two of good reading.

Do you feel that your foundational convictions have been changed any or much by your reading? Do you think you have become more relaxed on certain doctrines than you once were or more dogmatic?

I do not think that my foundational convictions have changed much by reading, if by foundational convictions we mean the theology that lies closest to the gospel. I would certainly say that much of that theology has been clarified and strengthened in my mind as I’ve come to understand things better, but I have not had any huge epiphanies where I’ve laid aside any foundational theology. I am reasonably certain that my foundational theology is largely biblical. It is not nearly as deep or as solidly-formed as I might like, but I do believe it is biblical and is simply the doctrine that has been handed down to me as a person who grew up in sound churches.

To answer the second part of this question, there are some doctrines about which I’ve become more relaxed and others about which I’ve become more dogmatic. I’m not sure how much this owes to my reading and how much it owes to my times of Bible study, research and writing. But I’ve definitely come to see that there are some areas where I need to relax a little bit and to rejoice that people are following their biblically-informed consciences; there are some areas that I’ve found just do not merit a great deal of attention. People who have read this site for a long time will probably be able to see a difference between what I was writing in 2004 and what I’m writing now. The flavor has changed, the tone has changed, and I believe a lot of that is because of what I’ve learned through the books I’ve read. At the same time, I’ve learned more about the “hills to die on” and am more dogmatic than ever about the doctrines that lie at the heart of the faith.

My father-in-law once wrote a paper, when he was working on his MDiv., on the topic of “Wine in the Bible”. He came to the conclusion that every instance of the word “wine” in the Bible referred to non-fermented grape juice and insisted that total abstinence was the only Biblical position a Christian should take. I have a book by Kenneth Gentry entitled “The Christian and Alcoholic Beverages” that presents a different view. My father-in-law based his convictions on books that he had read and he refused to read anything that presented another position. I’m using this example to ask this: How much should we read of alternate points of view? Is it right to simply seek those books that present what we already believe in or should we read other works? Should we approach these books with an “Open Mind” or have our mind made up?

I believe there is great value in reading books that may not align with what a person already believes. Of course one rarely knows whether he will agree with a book until he has read it, but usually by looking at endorsements and researching the author we can have a pretty good idea of what an author will teach. I make a point of reading books I am quite certainly I will disagree with. I do this for several reasons. First, I think my convictions are strengthened when I read alternative points of view. In fact, sometimes reading alternative points of view really helps me understand what I believe in a way I did not before. There’s nothing like reading that penal substitutionary atonement is “cosmic child abuse” to make me sharpen my understanding of that doctrine. Second, I believe it is important to keep growing and to keep sharpening my beliefs. I am under no illusion that all I believe is entirely correct, so I am eager to read how other people interpret Scripture so I can test it and see if what I believe does adhere to the Word of God. And finally, I think it is important to know what other people believe.The books that I tend to agree with are books that represent the beliefs of only a small percentage of Christians and only the tiniest fraction of humanity. If I want to understand what others believe and to understand why they believe these things, I’m going to need to read the books they are reading.

I should note that, while all reading requires discernment, reading books that come from a theological perspective far different from my own requires an extra measure. I believe we should major on good books, but do not feel there is anything wrong with minoring on not-so-good books.

And, if you’re interested, I disagree with your father-in-law’s conclusion.

How much of a book do think you retain? Are they like episodes of “Little House on the Prairie?” You remember seeing them and you remember being moved by them but you can’t remember a single one of them now!

The amount I retain varies a great deal from book-to-book. If I am reading a book out of desire, because it is a book whose subject matter greatly interests me, I will tend to enjoy reading it more and will tend to remember more. When the book is one I am reading more out of necessity, feeling that this is a title that needs to be reviewed for one reason or another, I am less likely to remember a lot about it. I find reading with pen and pencil in hand and writing a review are both great ways of reinforcing what the book teaches and helping me file it away in my mind. I can always return to the review to refresh my memory.

I should say that my goal in reading a book is not necessarily to remember everything. I’m quite aware that I’m no Al Mohler and work within the limitations of my mind and memory. My goals are more modest and probably more realistic for someone who can only just manage to remember my own first name most days without first having to read the label on my underwear. I often read books in order to know what that book contains so that if I need to focus on a particular area, I can return to it as a resource. While I may not often remember the complete structure and content of a book, I’ll often remember the more important points within the book and can often quickly flip to the part of the book I want to reference, even months later. For some reason my brain often works in such a way that I can remember the place on the page that I read something. Thus I can skim a book looking only at the bottom right corners or the odd pages, knowing that I saw something down there.

I’ll shamefully admit that there are a few books (a very few) that I’ve noticed in my list of reviews of which I have no memory whatsoever. I’ve apparently read and reviewed them, but remember absolutely nothing of them. But this is definitely the exception far more than the rule.

Is reading a Hobby, a Pacifier, both or neither?

I still read primarily for my own benefit. It sounds selfish, I’m sure, but I tend to read mostly because I know there is so much to learn and I’m eager to learn it. Just last night my wife said to me (and not in a bad way), “You’re one of those people who always feels you need to improve yourself. No matter what you learn, you think you need to learn more.” And I guess that’s about it. The more I learn, the more I see that I need to still learn. This is not a burden to me, but a challenge. Reading and learning is a joy. It is a hobby of sorts and perhaps even a bit of a calling. I enjoy it more than I enjoy most other things I could do with the time. I enjoy the process of reading and love to see in my life the benefits of reading good books.

As I’ve become a book reviewer I’ve also had to begin reading books simply because they need to be reviewed. This has stretched me and has introduced me to some great books I might otherwise have overlooked. But it has also led me to some books that were terribly boring and which I did not enjoy at all. There are always a few books on my shelf that are “need to read” books. Some of these have been pleasurable, but some have been a fight from cover-to-cover. For some reason I enjoyed reading Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion but utterly despised reading Christopher Hitchens’ God is Not Great. They are similar in their assumptions and similar in what they teach, but one was a chore while the other was a strange pleasure of sorts.

What is your ultimate aim in reading so much?

I suppose I’ve touched on this already. But my ultimate aim in reading is to bring glory to God. I do this first by delighting in reading—a gift from God. I do this also by reading good books and applying to my life what I’ve learned. And I try to do this as well by making other people aware of good books. This is an unexpected ministry God has given me and one I take seriously. I know that most people do not have the time to read as many books as I do, and neither do they have interest in doing so. So I make it a point to read a lot of books so I can recommend to other people a handful of books they may like to read. If a person is only going to read three or four books a year, I’d be delighted if he read my reviews and chose four good, solid, biblical books as the ones he is going to read that year. I am happy to do the screening work and to serve as a filter, separating the mountains of chaff from the few kernels of wheat.

I find that as I read a lot my praise becomes more sparse, but the praise I do give out becomes more meaningful. After all, when I had read just two books, I had only one way of seeing them—one was better than the other. As I’ve read more and more, the relationships have compounded and I become more and more difficult to impress. So now when I do come across a book that blows my socks off, I find that my recommendations mean more as they are made in the light of hundreds of other “competitors.” I believe that a positive review today means more than a positive review three or four years ago. And well it should. So if you read my reviews, keep an eye out for superlatives as they are becoming increasingly meaningful.

Read it and remains a pleasure. I hope and pray it remains that way to me.

I wanted to draw your attention to a couple of conferences that, though they do not take place until 2008, are coming up rather quickly now.

Nashville Conference on the Church & Theology (February 8-10)

The Nashville Conference on the Church & Theology is hosted by Community Bible Church. This is how they introduce this conference: “After fifty years of ‘church growth’ methodology, the Church's landscape is littered with countless relics of the latest and greatest models for ministry. But above all our attempts at "relevance" stands the cross of Jesus Christ. The cross is our only message and our greatest relevance. We preach Christ crucified.

“The Nashville Conference on the Church and Theology is an opportunity to rediscover the power of the Cross. NCCT 08 is a call to reformation. It is for preacher, leader and layman alike all wrestling with the same questions. Can the church reach out without selling out? Can it address the culture without abandoning its core message?”

The speakers will be Steven Lawson, D.A. Carson, and me. I will be speaking once, Dr. Lawson twice and Dr. Carson three times (with Dr. Carson also preaching at the church Sunday morning). The topic I’ll be speaking on is “Loving God with Your Mind: The Place of Discernment and Critical Thinking in Worship.” Other topics include “From Foolishness to Irrelevance: The Diminishing Message of the Cross,” “The Gospel and Postmodern Minds: How Do We Reach Out to a Changing Culture Without Selling Out?,” and “Bring the Book: Why Preaching the Truth is the Greatest Need in Every Age.”

Though I tried to work my way out of it, the conference organizers determined I should be part of this one, and so I’ll attempt to keep people amused between talks from the real speakers. If you are in the Nashville area, you might like to make some room on your schedule for this one. You can find more information about it here: Nashville Conference on the Church & Theology.

2008 Band of Bloggers :: The Gospel Trust (April 15)

Only a few weeks before the inaugural Together for the Gospel conference Timmy Brister had the idea of inviting bloggers to gather together immediately before the beginning of the main conference. Over seventy of us did so in what was probably the largest gathering of evangelical bloggers to that point. With the 2008 Together for the Gospel Conference fast approaching, Timmy has once again set about organizing the Band of Bloggers. The theme this year is “The Gospel Trust” and the conference will feature a panel comprised of Justin Taylor, Thabiti Anyabwile, Mark Lauterbach and me. This event will take place at noon the day that Together for the Gospel kicks off and will happen in or near the same venue.

If you are a blogger or even someone who just enjoys reading blogs, why not get to Louisville just a half a day earlier and take in this event? You can find more information here: Band of Bloggers.

I wanted to begin today by sharing a few words of wisdom from my daughter who just turned five: “In heaven you can’t die, so you can eat popcorn and hot dogs at the same time and not have to worry about choking.” I just thought you’d all like to have one more thing to look forward to in eternity. Of course one could well ask, “If there are hot dogs in heaven, could it really be heaven?”

But I digress.

In church this morning the pastor preached on John 3 and covered the portion of the gospel where Jesus confronts Nicodemus. Just prior to what are undoubtedly the most-quoted verses of the Bible, Jesus tells the Pharisee, “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” Jesus refers, of course, to Numbers 21:4-9 where Jesus punished the ungrateful Israelites by sending “fiery serpents” among them. In one of the Old Testament’s clearest shadows of the cross of Christ, God commanded Moses to create a bronze serpent that whoever looked at that serpent would be saved. It would only have been a fool who would feel the onset of sickness and death caused by that snakebite, but still refuse to look to the serpent.

I thought then of the joy and privilege it is to look to the cross of Christ, even in church this morning. I thought of my neighborhood where each Sunday morning our car is, as far as we know, the only one that drives a family to church. We are the only ones who raise our eyes to the cross each Sunday so that we might look to the cross and be saved. I was filled with gratitude to God for His saving gift and was filled with gratitude to experience the privilege of attending a church where the pastor and elders are committed to ensuring that each service our eyes are drawn to the cross. The cross is all they’ve got to offer us—it’s all they want to offer us. It’s a blessing to see new faces in that church as more people experience the joy of gazing at the cross.

From there my thoughts were drawn to places in the world where so many more people head to church each Sunday. I thought of Houston’s infamous Lakewood church, just one example of a place where each weekend tens of thousands of men and women gather, but where those thousands upon thousands are not led to truly gaze upon the cross. Rather, their gaze is drawn to a human—a mere sinful mortal. It can be no other way. After all, if we do not draw men’s gaze to the cross, we draw it only to ourselves. What a tragedy that so many miss the true thing. They may go to church for a lifetime and never truly be encouraged to see the cross as the main thing—as the only thing of real and lasting value. Their eyes may never be lifted up beyond themselves—beyond other human beings.

I thank God for faithful Christians and faithful churches that exist to lift up the cross so sinful men and women may look at it and live.

Next year is an Olympic year and in the summer of 2008, athletes will converge on Beijing to complete in 302 events across 28 different sports. Already we are beginning to hear about qualifying events and national Olympic committees choosing the teams they will send to China to represent their countries. There isn’t an athlete who isn’t already dreaming of earning a spot on the Olympic team and earning a gold medal for his country.

Athletes know that to earn a spot on the team and to have any hope of bringing home a medal, they need to commit to a serious training regimen. Though the Olympics are still almost 300 days away from the opening ceremonies, all around the world men and women are preparing themselves, pushing their bodies to the limits, enduring grueling competitions, so they can be at their absolute best when the games kick off on August 8, 2008. Only with constant practice, constant attention to their sport, will these athletes be ready to perform at the highest standards. Only those who are absolutely dedicated to their sport will win the prize.

This weekend I read Craig Brown’s The Five Dilemmas of Calvinism, a small book that has just been published by Ligonier Ministries. It is a book that seeks to address five of the most common charges against Calvinistic theology, showing how Calvinism ultimately addresses these issues in a way that is faithful to Scripture. In a brief Foreword to this book, R.C. Sproul says something that resonated in my mind throughout the weekend. He first quotes Hebrews 5:12-14 which reads. “[E]veryone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.” Sproul than says, “In other words, there is much to the Scriptures and the Christian faith beyond what immediately meets the eye, and it is not easy to get at it—‘constant practice’ is necessary to move from the ‘unskilled’ state to that of ‘mature’ and ‘trained.’ Even Peter acknowledged the difficulty of doctrine when he said of the letters of his colleague Paul, the apostle who, more than any other, laid down the doctrinal basics of the Christian faith: ‘There are some things in them that are hard to understand’ (2 Peter 3:16b). He was right. For this reason, I would be suspicious of any doctrinal system I could thoroughly grasp with ease.”

As I was writing The Discipline of Spiritual Discernment I spent quite a bit of time studying and pondering those verses from Hebrews 5. I found them challenging verses and ones that had important things to tell us about discernment and its deep connection to spiritual maturity. I’ve written about that here in the past in a three-part Call to Discernment.

But the verses are also a challenge to us in that they exhort us to constant practice. All around the world Olympic athletes are practicing as they gear up for the Olympics, hoping that they can bring a medal home with them. And yet many Christians seemed lulled into complacency about the spiritual matters that are of far greater importance than any athletic competition. The Bible is clear, not only in Hebrews but in other passages, that God expects and demands maturity. He expects that we will move beyond the unskilled state to the state of one who is mature and trained—the state of one who is ready to be challenged.

As I read these words from Hebrews and as I pondered their significance I was led to ask myself, “What have I done today to prepare myself?” I am certain that this is a question athletes must ask themselves every day as well. And I asked again this morning, “What will I do to practice today?” To be a man who is mature in my faith and to be a person who is ready to have my faith challenged, I must practice and I must dedicate myself to maturity. Have I done those things God requires of me in order to mature in my faith? Have I given time to learning from Him in the Bible? Have I spent time communing with Him in prayer? Have I dedicated myself to a local church and to sharing my life with other Christian men and women? If I wish to be mature, I must train. And if I am to be mature, I must train in the way God tells me to.

My challenge to you and my challenge to myself at the beginning of another week is simply this: What have you done to practice?

Though Satan makes his claim on my life…

Studying European history can be both fascinating and frustrating. Understanding the intricacies of nations, borders and rulers could easily be a life-long pursuit. The history of the continent is filled with claims, and counterclaims as one person sought to prove himself the legitimate heir to one of its many kingdoms. There were many who sought to claim thrones and kingdoms and these claims had to be settled through lengthy and detailed examination. Generations, kingdoms, marriages, and thrones had to be examined to understand who had the rightful claim to a throne.

I once found a similar concept of “claiming” in the Bible and it struck me as one of the most terrifying passages of Scripture I’ve ever read. I remember as a child finding Revelation to be a dark and scary book. Visions of beasts and persecution, wrath and disaster gave my imagination much fodder to create terrifying scenarios that played out in my mind as I tried to sleep. But I can't call to mind anything that has struck my heart with such a pure and informed terror as this verse I read.

It comes as Jesus is preparing to leave His disciples for the last time. They are in the upper room together celebrating the last Passover and the first Lord's Supper. Jesus is giving his disciples their final instructions, telling them that all He has taught them is about to be fulfilled. He is gentle with them, knowing that they are blinded to the reality of what is about to happen. He is kind to promise that He will send His Spirit to indwell and guide and teach them. And then He tells them that it is time to leave.

"I will no longer talk much with you, for the ruler of this world is coming. He has no claim on me…" Jesus knew that Satan was about to unleash his full fury upon Him. And far, far worse, He knew that Satan's wrath was as nothing compared to the wrath of God that He would soon have to face. Satan, the ruler of this world, was coming. He was going to drag Jesus, like a helpless, hopeless lamb, through the streets, through the courts, and to the cross where He would be tortured and nailed and pierced in utter agony. Satan was going to do his worst. But Satan would not accomplish what he had hoped. In fact, he would accomplish the very opposite of what he had intended. By inciting the masses to drag Jesus to that tree, Satan would make sure his own doom and ensure the salvation of multitudes of God's people. Satan could do nothing to Jesus beyond the physical, for he had no claim on Him. He had no claim on the Son of God.

The Bible calls Satan the accuser for that is how he does his work. In Revelation 12 we read of a voice that cries out, "Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God." Satan delights in accusing God's children of sin. Before the throne of God he tells of our sin and our failure. He tells of his reign in the hearts of all who have sinned. He tells of his rightful claim to the souls of all who have sinned against the Creator.

But he had no claim on Jesus. Satan could not whisper in Jesus' ear that He was unloving or unworthy or sinful. He could not remind Jesus of sins He had committed, people he had shunned or offenses against God. He could not remind Jesus of impure motives or impure thoughts. Satan was powerless to accuse Jesus. He had no claim against Him. In John 8:46 Jesus asked the Pharisees a rhetorical question after they accused Him of being in league with Satan. "Which one of you convicts me of sin?," he asked them. And none of them could answer. They were silent. Satan is likewise unable to convict Jesus of sin. He has no claim. He must stand in silence before the perfection of Jesus.

But not so with us. Satan has a legitimate claim to my soul and yours. Satan can recount endless lists of offenses against God. You and I have committed grevious offenses against God. We have done so joyfully, willingly, deliberately. We have done so as a show of our rebellion against God. We have enjoyed being sinful. We have enjoyed giving Satan a claim on our souls. In a time of judgment there is no doubt that Satan can produce a list of offenses more than sufficient to prove his claim on us. It is a legitimate claim. He has ruled us and we have allowed ourselves to be ruled by him.

Terror should fill the hearts of all who ponder Satan's claims on their souls. And how could it not? Satan, the accuser, the evil one, wants my soul as his own possession. He has a claim on it. He has a claim on you. How can you not fear as you read those words?

But praise be to God, there is more. When Satan flung Jesus upon that cross, he was unwittingly bringing about his own destruction. When Jesus' time on the cross was complete, He cried out, "It is finished!" It was a cry of triumph - a cry whose fullest meaning we can never know. It was a cry that pierced history - it divided the history of humanity. It was the greatest, purest, most meaningful utterance the world can know. In His death Christ took our sin upon Himself. He took the accusations of Satan and bore them on our behalf. As God turned His back on Jesus, while at the same time pouring out His wrath upon Him, Jesus atoned for our sins. He entered a claim of His own in the lives of His children. My sin became His and His righteousness became mine.

The accuser lost his claim. When Satan accuses me now I am able to know, to believe, to trust and to affirm that his claim is null and void. I am clothed in Christ's righteousness. My sin has been removed. My guilt has been taken away. I have been redeemed. And, as the climber in triumph leaves a flag at the peak of a mountain, Jesus Christ has sent His Spirit to live within me and to mark me as His own possession.

Satan may still accuse me. He may still seek to convince me that I am his. But he has lost his claim. Jesus has washed me with His blood. He has set His Spirit within me. Jesus Christ has claimed me as His own. The terror fades as love and praise well up within my heart. Tears fall from my eyes as I know and believe that I have been claimed by God Himself.

Yes, I wrote something like this once before, though quite some time ago. I was revisiting this topic and was once again reflecting on Christ’s claim. It was good to do so.

I graduated from college in 1995 (Or so. To be honest, I don’t even remember exactly what year it was), having earned a degree in history. That degree did not open up the world of possibilities I had obviously thought it might when I first chose history as my major three years before. With few options available to me, and suffering from a lack of motivation, I decided I had better find some kind of employment, even if it did not incorporate my training. I learned that a new Starbucks was opening nearby and quickly made my way through the interview process. The day the store opened I was there, and I stayed at that job, putting in my forty hours a week, for what must have been a year—possibly more.

I’m not sure if this is still the case, but back then every store was required to select one “Coffee Expert,” the one person on staff who would receive a bit of extra training in the world of coffee and who was required to know more about the various flavors of coffee than anyone else. This person had to be able to identify the differences between the types and to teach others how to do the same. He was responsible for brewing different kinds of coffees in order to educate both the employees and the customers. Through some strange twist of fate I was appointed to this position by the manager.

There was just one small problem. I hated coffee. I still do. I am convinced that it is a vile, evil concoction and one that has cruelly enslaved much of the human race. I despise the stuff, even in what I am assured is its finest form. I can barely stand even the smallest taste of it. It curdles my tongue, makes my eyes water, and leaves me gagging. I find it utterly revolting.

And yet I was the coffee expert. When customers wanted to know about the different kinds of coffee we offered, it was my job to lead them through the various options available to them and to help them select the coffee that was suited to their tastes. A customer would choose a package from the counter and I would say, “Oh, now that’s a great choice. It’s a delicious, full-bodied roast that you can taste all over your tongue. Look for the flavors of oak and a subtle hint of the spring flowers that grow in the mountains of Peru.” I had the routine down pat and helped sell a lot of coffee—more than anyone else in the store, I’m sure. The facts were all true; it’s not like I was some kind of used car dealer covering up a vehicle’s flaws and hoping to make a sell to some poor sap who would be stuck with a useless hulk. I simply relayed information I knew was true. But I hated the product. Had I been entirely forthcoming I would have said this: “It mostly tastes like burning. When I drink it I detect mostly the flavor of charcoal mixed with dirt—and not the nice dirt I used to eat as a kid, either. It tastes like burned, charred, nasty, ugly hot dirt. It’s loaded with caffeine and I’m sure it’s going to shorten your life. If you enjoy the smell or taste of manure, I’m sure you’ll love it. Would you like me to grind it for you?” It always struck me as just a little bit odd that I would champion something I disliked so much.

Now that I’ve finished my first book and am eagerly awaiting its release, I have had quite a few people ask me what’s in store for the future. Do I intend to write another book? And, indeed, I do hope to write another book. But I’ve become convinced that I can’t write a book until I first live a book. When it comes to writing it is always a temptation to relay information I know is true, even if I have not incorporated it into my life. I’ve had to confess that I’ve done this in the past right here on this blog. I can sometimes content myself with knowing that something I am writing is true and biblical, even if it has little resonance in my life. But when it comes to writing a book, I know that I need to live it in order to write it.

When I worked at Starbucks I had absolutely no passion for coffee. Though I could talk a good line, I always felt a bit like I was lying. Customers would ask, “What’s your favorite?” and I would just blurt out a flavor based on my favorite packaging. I had no favorite coffee anymore than I had a favorite flavor of cough syrup or a favorite kind of kick in the teeth. I don’t want my life to be like this. I want what I say and what I write to be a reflection of who I really am—or who I really want to be through the power of the Spirit.

I want to be a Christian who doesn’t just do a smooth job of selling the Christian life. I could probably sit down and write a book that would say all the right things and make me feel very happy when I had typed out the last word. But it wouldn’t satisfy because it wouldn’t be genuine.

So when will I write another book? I’ll write another book when I’ve lived another book.

I have an older brother named Andrew who lives in the fine city of Chattanooga, Tennessee. Andrew needs help with something and I’m hoping that someone here—perhaps someone who lives in Chattanooga or who knows people who do, may be able to offer assistance.

Now I would not generally create a post such as this one, but the fact is that my brother has some special needs. He was diagnosed just a few years ago with Asperger’s Syndrome. Asperger’s is one of several autism spectrum disorders and is characterized primarily by difficulties in social interaction (though motor clumsiness seems also to be a defining characteristic). It is distinguished from the other similar autism spectrum disorders in that it is not often marked by delays in language or cognitive development. People with Asperger’s are not much like the more seriously autistic people you may have seen might rock back and forth and who are often entirely unable to communicate. Most of the time they act and appear perfectly normal.

When Asperger’s is diagnosed early in life there are many programs available. We’ve seen evidence of this in the lives of the three boys who live next to us, all of whom have this syndrome. Since my brother was diagnosed later in life (in his early thirties) these programs are not available to him. Thus he’s looking for a job but has had to do so largely on his own, without the benefit of the counseling and support that would otherwise be available to him. Needless to say, it has been a tough proposition for him.

Because of the difficulties in social interaction he is really unable to present himself confidently in a job interview situation. To this point he has gained several interviews but, for various reasons unrelated to his skills, has been unable to secure employment. He is looking for something in the field of data entry or clerical work and should be well suited to this. I could see him doing well with filing or data entry and working in a church or office situation. He is not necessarily looking for full-time work and may well qualify for some kind of special needs program for his employer (assuming such a thing exists in Chattanooga). Andrew is a hard worker, a good friend for those with the patience and interest in getting to know him and he is a man who loves the Lord. He is just now learning to live on his own and he desperately wants and needs a job. I’m hoping and praying that someone who is part of this mysterious family we call “the church” may be able to assist a brother.

If you are aware of a potential position that might be available to him in the Chattanooga area or you know of someone who might, I’d sure be grateful if you would contact me.