Rod Dreher's younger sister, Ruthie Leming, was diagnosed with terminal cancer when she was only 40 years old. A beloved middle school teacher, mother to three young girls, and the happy wife of her high school sweetheart, she faced cancer with the conviction that whatever happened to her, God would bring good out of her illness. Her small town of St. Francisville, Louisiana, (population 1,700) rallied to her side during the struggle. But she died in her husband's arms, in a harrowing scene vividly recounted by Rod Dreher in his new book, The Little Way of Ruthie Leming: A Southern Girl, a Small Town, and the Secret of a Good Life.

The whole ordeal led Rod, a journalist who had worked in Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, New York, and Dallas, to re-evaluate his life and move home for the first time in 20 years. He joined me to discuss faith, tragedy, family, love, and the secret of a good life. You can download or stream the audio below.

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Rod Dreher on the Little Way of Ruthie Leming

For years Shai Linne has spoken of his music in terms of "lyrical theology." This month, the motto became an album. The first in a new trilogy of projects from the Washington, D.C.-based hip-hop artist, Lyrical Theology Part 1: Theology is a 16-song fusion of complex rhymes, rugged beats, and biblical truth. Kind of like a soundtrack for your theological journey.

You can stream one of the tracks, "Theology Q & A (feat. Stephen the Levite)," below. (Lyrics are available here.)

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I corresponded with Shai [Twitter | Blog | Lamp Mode Recordings] about the new album, how it compares with his previous projects, the controversial "Fal$e Teacher$" song, and more.

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Lyrical Theology Part 1: Theology is the first installment in a trilogy, with two other albums (Lyrical Theology Part 2: Doxology and Lyrical Theology Part 3: Sociology) forthcoming. Why did you decide to launch this three-part project? 

Theology, doxology, and sociology are categories I've been thinking about for a while now. Another way to put it would be that the knowledge of God (theology) leads to the worship of God (doxology) and to living for God (sociology). In one sense, then, each is incomplete without the others. So as I thought about making an album that would best represent what lyrical theology means to me, a trilogy made the most sense.

This has been described as a "throwback album." How does it differ thematically and sonically from your previous ones as well as others in contemporary Christian hip-hop?

It's a throwback album sonically in that it utilizes "underground" production that was more common in the '90s. Most of the more popular hip-hop artists, Christian or otherwise, use a different style of production these days. The style of Lyrical Theology Part 1: Theology would also differ from my last album, The Attributes of God. On that one, we were going for a more epic, cinematic kind of sound.

The Lamp Mode website casts this project as "a return to the roots of what inspired Shai to enter the Christian hip-hop arena in the first place." What was your original inspiration, why a detour, and why a return?

I was originally inspired by the uniqueness of hip-hop as a medium in its ability to pack a large amount of  truth into a small amount of musical space. Hip-hop also has an immediacy about it that makes it a powerful rhetorical device when engaging in polemics. I hadn't really done that since "Mission Accomplished" on The Atonement (2008). Because theology is concerned with proclaiming the truth about God, one of its corresponding functions is to correct error about him. This was more common when I first began doing Christian hip-hop, and I wanted to return to some of that with this project.

The most startling part of the album has to be the song "Fal$e Teacher$," in which you call out a number of contemporary heretics—by name. Why did you choose to get so explicit and personal here?

For "Fal$e Teacher$," I wanted to take advantage of one of the things hip-hop is really useful for—communicating a message with urgency in a provocative manner that forces the listener to engage. It's similar to what Propaganda did last year with "Precious Puritans," but obviously to a different crowd for different ends. In studying the teachings of all the people I named, it was clear they fit the biblical category of false teacher—and have for many years. Once people began to ask, "Why did you name this or that person?" that would provide an opportunity to point people to helpful resources as well as address things myself in a medium more suited to in-depth argumentation and explanation, as with the open letter I wrote to Paula White Ministries after they responded to the song. I was specific because, had I only named the teaching rather than the teachers, people would have assumed that some on the list didn't fit the description. The American church has no excuse for putting up with this stuff. We have an abundance of biblical resources here. But for saints around the world who may lack those same resources, I wanted to sound the alarm so that they might re-examine in the light of Scripture what's being exported to them.

In 2008 you gave us a song about definite atonement; here, we find tracks about election, regeneration, even amillenialism. Are you concerned that such theological depth might limit the album's evangelistic potential?

The album is for the encouragement and building up of the church, so I mostly deal with in-house issues. Still, I'm careful to clearly reference and proclaim the gospel throughout, so that those whom God has given an ear to hear might believe and be saved.

I've never heard a song like "Take Up and Read," in which you, Through Hymn, Omri, and Ant manage to commend an author or book in virtually every phrase. Any idea how many recommendations are packed into those four minutes?

There are about 50 references in the verses and over 60 total, including the spoken part before the final verse. One of the things guiding my approach to music is the attempt to write in such a way that gives the songs a chance to outlive me. Hip-hop can be great at pointing beyond itself. In this case, I wanted to direct listeners to resources that have stood the test of time so that those who hear the song 60 years from now might still be helped by it.

What books influenced this project?

Outside of Scripture, I'd say Holiness by J. C. Ryle, More than Conquerors by William Hendriksen, Health, Wealth, and Happiness by David Jones and Russell Woodbridge, and Spiritual Warfare in a Believer's Life by Charles Spurgeon, just to name a few.

In the early hours of Friday morning, Stephen and Emily McAlpin awoke to the sound of what they thought were fireworks. Within moments, however, it became clear what was happening outside was no celebration.

The story that gripped the nation was unfolding in their front yard.

In a hijacked Mercedes SUV, Boston Marathon bombing suspects Tamerlan and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev were speeding through the streets of Watertown, Massachusetts, with as many as a dozen police cars in pursuit. Reports say the officers had to dodge homemade bombs hurled from the careening vehicle.

At roughly 12:50 a.m., the SUV screeched to a halt in front of the McAlpins' house. The brothers opened fire, igniting a gun battle with police that involved more than 200 rounds of ammunition, additional makeshift bombs, and the death of the older Tsarnaev—"Suspect #1."

With the sounds of terror—and even a couple of bullets—entering their home, Stephen and Emily huddled under a table and cried out to Christ. I corresponded with Stephen [Twitter | Blog], church planting resident at Hope Fellowship Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, about the night he and Emily will never forget.

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What happened? 

On Friday, my wife Emily and I witnessed firsthand the gunfight between police and terrorists in Watertown, Massachusetts, as it happened in our front yard. It was like nothing we'd ever experienced. We first heard the gunshots and an explosion from our bedroom and, after calling 911, crawled with our dog to safety under the kitchen table where we cried out to Jesus for help, and then later into the bathtub for better cover, where we continued praying. We spent a lot of time in fear of death, even after the gunfire ceased and the police checked on us. In fact, we were on lockdown almost the entire day, hiding under our kitchen table as police disarmed explosives around us and searched for the terrorist who had escaped them. We later discovered that during the gunfight seven bullets had hit our home, with one going through our living room wall into our TV and one striking our car. The whole experience was terrifying and utterly unexpected, like a nightmare. Now, we just feel blessed to be alive and safe, and we believe it's only because God answered our prayers.

Listening to your interview with CNN, I was struck by the peace you seemed to experience amid the terror. Where did this come from, and what was it like?

I believe the peace we experienced came from the Holy Spirit, who was a guiding light to us in a terrifyingly dark time. We experienced the Spirit's peace most fully while praying. It was a kind of peace that felt like someone else was sharing it with us. As I led my wife in prayer there was like a bright light that calmed my thoughts and helped me to feel that life is a gift and that it's all about Jesus. In our hearts we felt calmness and even joy at the idea of us finally being with God together. And physically, it was like God's arms were being wrapped around us to cover us. Altogether, the peace we experienced led us into worship and gave us real hope. It was otherworldly.

You reflected that, while hovering under the kitchen table and later in the bathtub, you just held your wife and prayed. What were you praying?

Under the table, after I told my wife that I loved her, my prayer was basically: "God, thank you for the life you've given us together. Thank you for your grace. Oh God, protect us. Jesus, save us! We need you, save us! You're our only hope. God, please show us grace by giving us safety. Please cover over us and surround us with your angels. Please protect our neighbors, too, and show them your grace." Then I was just quiet and every so often prayed, "Oh Jesus, save us!" as I held my wife and dog.

When we later moved to the bathtub, shock was starting to set in, and we were trying to figure out what was happening, but we kept holding one another and praying. That time is kind of a blur, but I remember we were thanking God for his grace in protecting us thus far and asking him to quickly bring it all to an end.

What would you say to those who find themselves in situations of fear?

Pray, worshipfully. In situations of fear, there are really only two ways you can respond: worshiping God or not worshiping God. When you're fearing for your life, that choice becomes a lot simpler. You strangely crave a meaningful life, if only for a moment. Don't let that moment pass you by. Remember that Jesus is our only hope for true, meaningful life. Express your faith in him. Enjoy him—who he is and what he does—in that moment. Ask him to do the things that only he does, like gracefully saving sinners for his glory. He is faithful to answer.

If he rescues you in that moment, that's an amazing thing that will change you and others forever. If he doesn't rescue you in that moment, at least you'll have had one of the best, sweetest moments of your entire life as you worshiped him in the threat of evil and death. God can do incredible things through worshipful, Christ-centered prayer.

What has God been teaching you and your wife in the hours since the experience?

The hours since the experience have been surreal, like waking up from a nightmare. A lot of people are, like us, trying to figure out how to move on. We recognize we're still healing, so we trust there's still a lot for God to teach us. Yet as we've looked back so far, God has been teaching us to remember that you can die any moment, so life is exceedingly precious. We have life in this world only because of Jesus and only for Jesus. He's our only hope for true life—and this is true for everyone else. We've been challenged to cultivate a living hope in Jesus all the time—not just during crises—and to share our hope with others still lost in the darkness and unsure of how to overcome it.

In the aftermath of the event, we've been humbly surprised by how simply sharing our hope in Jesus during this dark time is making an impact on our neighbors, our city, and even people all around the world. We think God answered our prayers so that others might know how he can enter into and redeem anyone's story through the person and work of Jesus Christ.

Shortly after John Piper concluded his 33-year pastorate at Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, FakeJohnPiper tweeted his week one retirement to-do list: "Catch up on 'Little House on the Prairie' reruns. Arc Leviticus. See if Savers is hiring. Write three books."

During The Gospel Coalition 2013 National Conference earlier this week, I asked the real John Piper what's left for week two of retirement. But we also discussed what he won't miss about being a pastor. He explained what young Christians who look up to him for his writing and conference speaking need to know about the day-to-day pastoral care that shaped this broader influence. He also shared why he regrets so much about his time at Bethlehem.

Our interview also ranged beyond his time at Bethlehem to discuss next steps. One of Piper's role models, Jonathan Edwards, died before he finished his History of the Work of Redemption. What would Piper want to finish writing before he dies? And does he agree with his many critics that the Reformed resurgence would die with him if Jesus called him home tomorrow?

We closed the interview by discussing why he's more encouraged or discouraged today compared to when he started at Bethlehem, whether we should blame the divided and ineffective church for worrisome cultural trends, and what one fruit of the Spirit he prays God would give us Christians in this era. Watch, stream, or download audio of the full 30-minute interview to hear his surprising responses.

Tomorrow in Minneapolis, Bethlehem Baptist Church plans to celebrate and give thanks for John Piper during a 6 p.m. service at Grace Church Eden Prairie.

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Piper on Regrets and Retirement

"If it's true that Christ, the source of all beauty and creativity, is infinite, then the well can't run dry," Andrew Peterson writes in the introduction to his recent album, Light for the Lost Boy. "It bubbles over and graces us with light and more light, world without end. What a joy it is to plumb those depths."

I recently sat down with Andrew Peterson at Royal Redeemer Lutheran Church in Cleveland, Ohio, as he toured with Jason Gray on The Storytellers Tour. We discussed community, the creative process, finding joy in the gospel, and whether he and Eugene Peterson share ancient Viking blood. 

At the beginning of your recent album you quote J. R. R. Tolkien—"we all long for Eden, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most humane, is still soaked with the sense of exile"—affirming both the beauty and brokenness of this world. What do you see as a danger of emphasizing only one of these realities in your music and the church in general? 

When I was young my intuition told me the world is a screwy place. And so whenever I encountered art that didn't seem to acknowledge the brokenness of the world, I experienced it as dishonesty. It was short-selling the truth. So I tended not to give it the benefit of the doubt. If it didn't have some darkness in it, then I would just assume it was shallow.  

There was also a time in high school when I was into too much darkness. And there is an old saying, though I can't remember the source, that "if you look too long into the abyss, the abyss might look back." There is a danger in dwelling too much on the darkness as well, because it's not the entire truth either.

I am not sure that I am articulating the danger, except to say that either one is dishonest.

In terms of the church, there is a pastor in Missouri who introduced me to a number of people in his congregation who were victims of abuse, recovering drug addicts, and former gang members. It was a really diverse congregation filled with people with broken pasts, and I wept because they were so full of life and full of Christ. 

I asked the pastor how he ended up having these remarkable people in his congregation. And he said, "I was abused as a boy and always kept it a secret. And one day I felt the Holy Spirit convict me that I needed to share with others about my abuse, and I began telling my story from the pulpit." Soon his church became known as the church you go to when you have a broken past. What a beautiful example of what we are talking about.

And that's what I mean by acknowledging the brokenness—the kind of darkness this pastor acknowledges is within the context of the triumph of Christ. So as a Christian, I don't have to be afraid. If I am telling my story in the context of hope and the gospel, there is no darkness we can walk into that the light will not conquer. So that allows me as a songwriter and storyteller to take a deep breath and then plunge in.

In the same introduction, you also highlight the influence of your friends in the creative process. For someone who views art and work as merely self-expression and doesn't invite others into the creative process, how would you describe the effect of others in shaping and improving your work?    

I was recently talking to a friend about communion and how I've been craving the weekly celebration. I love going to church and regularly being confronted with the body and blood of Jesus. And my friend commented, "Can't you just do that at home among your family if you are at a church that doesn't serve it every Sunday?" And I guess you could, but it's not as rich of an experience as when you are sitting in the community where you belong.

Christianity was never meant to be experienced in isolation. It requires community and interaction on an intimate level with human beings. Songwriting or art or work can't be isolated from any other part of my Christian life—like taking communion. It's all best experienced in community.

And I can't overstate how much I have been wounded and then healed, how much I've experienced God's pleasure and then God's discipline, through the community to which I belong. I am not trying to say that you can't be a great artist and still be a loner; I just don't want to be one.

What would you say to someone—artist, pastor, or mom—who feels like the well has run dry? How do you stay surprised about the gospel and excited about telling it in creative ways?

On the way to the hotel today, our bass player, James, was looking through the trees, and he could see some dogwoods that were in bloom. And he started talking about how much more beautiful the dogwood tree is in the wild than when it's in the front yard, because when it's in the front yard it's not under the canopy of the older trees. And there is something more fragile about seeing it in the context of a forest. And I had never thought about that before. Then we talked about what a blessing it is to be around people who help you to see better.

So I think community is one of the big answers here too. One of my dear friends, an older gentleman, recently came to me, seeing that I was getting exhausted from the constant demands of work, and said he wanted to enter into a kind of covenant with me for a season to walk together and have liturgies with each other. He said, "I am going to call you every Sunday afternoon, or you call me, and we are going to pray for each other and talk about where we are, and we are going to read the same psalm every day." So every day I'll get a text reminding me what psalm to read.

And when this mentor/friend shared this desire with me, I immediately said yes, because I want to shape the minutes of my day around the gospel of Jesus. I don't want to just do ministry in the broad sense and justify other things because "I do kingdom work." I can still be a jerk in the middle of day and I can lust, I can have selfish thoughts, and I can say biting things—and I want deal with these things too. I want to be someone guided even in the particulars with the gospel.   

And when we understand the gospel rightly we are free to experience this kind of discipline as a life-giving thing and not as legalism and death-giving. Whatever creative things God has in store for me must flow out of this first commitment to become more like Jesus.

Next I would tell someone to realize there are going to be seasons where you might not feel like you are making any progress. My son is an illustrator, and one thing that I remember when I was kid about drawing was that I could get so frustrated. The same thing happened to me with learning music. You can feel like you are spinning the wheels and not getting any better. If you are kind of audacious though and don't quit, and you push and push, then one day without explanation there is a breakthrough and suddenly you can play the run you couldn't play two weeks ago. I don't know why it works that way, but I believe our spiritual lives are the same way. 

Finally, if you can interact with art in a meaningful and intentional way—that's what wakes me up. It's easy to put your iPod on shuffle and clean the kitchen without sitting down and really listening to a song. We lack focus. Stephen King says there is a gnome that lives in his basement and passes him pages up through the floor boards, and he has to feed the gnome well or he stops giving him pages. So I feed the gnome by watching good movies, reading great books, and being with friends.

On a lighter note—a friend of The Rabbit Room, Sally Lloyd-Jones once blogged about often being asked if she is related to THE Lloyd-Jones. Has anyone ever asked you if you are related to THE Peterson—Eugene Peterson?

That's funny because I actually did a retreat with Eugene Peterson at Laity Lodge in Texas. I am not on his radar screen (not even U2 was on his radar screen); but it just happened that I was playing the music at this retreat where he was teaching. Anyway, we talked about our mutual Swedish heritage and not much more. Well, at Laity Lodge they have this bookstore with all these great theological books and whoever is speaking usually has their books displayed as well.  So Eugene had all his books out on display, and I had my fantasy novels out.  The people there were like, "How neat, Eugene's son Andrew is a fantasy novelist."

So we had to constantly explain that we weren't related. And it felt so embarrassing if you can picture it—there's A Long Obedience in the Same Direction on one table next to On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness on another one. So that was the only time I've been asked, and the answer is no, we're not related, except maybe to some mutual Viking back in the day.

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Find information about Andrew's upcoming concerts. For those in the United Kingdom, Andrew also recently announced a concert in conjunction with The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary's expedition to the United Kingdom.

Tim Keller has said, "I don't know any pastor who has been more personally fruitful in discipleship ministry than Randy Pope. Nor do I know of any church leader who has had a more sustained, lifelong commitment to making the ministry of discipleship a pervasive force throughout his whole church."

Pope's new book, Insourcing: Bringing Discipleship Back to the Local Church (Zondervan), tells the story of how his congregation has learned to bring discipleship back from the margins of church life to the mainstream over the past 25 years. Insourcing brims with practical guidance for anchoring robust personal discipleship where it's always belonged: in your church.

I corresponded with Pope, founding pastor of Perimeter Church in Atlanta, about the concept of "insourcing," what he has against Bible studies, and what he'd say to crazy busy Christians. You can learn more from Pope on this topic in his workshop at The Gospel Coalition 2013 National Conference, one week from today on April 9. There's still time to register; we'll see you in Orlando!

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What are the most common discipleship-related misconceptions or mistakes you perceive in evangelical churches today? 

The greatest misconception in most churches today is that if we simply give good directions, we can delegate the work of the ministry and expect good outcomes. Of course we can all point to that rare hearty soul who goes and does as instructed, but I've found that, as Ken Blanchard says, moving from directing to delegating tends to create "disillusioned-learners." As leaders, then, it's important we grasp the significance. We may unwittingly create disillusioned learners, and the tragedy is that these individuals may never fully comprehend that God can use them in his greater story of redemption—even if their first attempt ended in failure. We believe something more than directing and delegating is needed.

What is "insourcing" and why is it significant?

Obviously it's a bit of a play on words. For decades the church has been focused on a lot of things other than life-on-life discipleship. Such discipleship has been largely "outsourced" to ministries that make this their primary focus. "Insourcing" calls pastors to bring discipleship back into the local church. I talk to pastors who really don't believe that life-on-life missional discipleship can be done within the church. I understand their thinking and somewhat sympathize. However, if we believe the church has the opportunity to affect the lives of individuals and then through those individuals to affect communities, cities, and people around the world, it's imperative we have a plan for helping them become mature and equipped followers of Christ. Our desired outcome should be mature and equipped followers investing their lives in the lives of others and taking the good news of the gospel to the lost world in which they live, work, and play.

Why don't you allow your small groups to turn into Bible studies?

Okay, let me clearly say that we are not against Bible studies. At Perimeter we have many groups who gather together, and they do a variety of studies. Many of those small groups do indeed study the Bible. In this statement, I'm making a distinction between small groups and our Journey Groups, which are a part of our life-on-life missional discipleship effort. When I say I don't allow my Journey Group to become a Bible study, I mean that Bible study should take place as preparation for our time together; therefore, when we gather we'll have time to do the many other things necessary for making mature and equipped followers of Jesus.

For instance, we make sure the Truth being discussed is both understandable and usable, which we refer to as Equipping. Our Journey Groups also include Accountability, since Truth always has implications as it works in and through our lives. After challenging one another in the area of Mission, we invest in prayer (Supplication) for one another. This forms a framework we call TEAMS, and it serves as an operating system for our life-on-life missional discipleship Journey Groups.

Life-on-life discipleship doesn't "just happen," you observe. "It takes hard work and a defined plan." Given that busyness is such a common hindrance to such discipling relationships, what would you say to the believer who desires to disciple but struggles to find the time?

People are busy. They have little or no margin in their lives. Certainly the people at Perimeter are no different. However, as is often the case with busy people, they aren't opposed to engaging in something if the return exceeds the value of the time invested. People want their life to count for something. When believers begin to understand God's story, their first impulse is a desire to understand their role in it. Our job as leaders, then, is to show them how they can engage without sacrificing their families or suffering from burnout. Skills are needed to find a life balance that allows men and women to be intentional about their choices rather than just going with the flow. Discipleship gives men and women an opportunity to gain those skills. Further, through accountable relationships with members in the Journey Group, there's built-in support for them as they seek to bring their lives into alignment with God's calling. I often tell people, if you want a legacy, a generational effect, then give your life to investing in the lives of a few men or women. There's nothing more exciting than seeing a person growing spiritually and being used to help someone else do the same.

Over the past two decades, your church has resolved to make personal discipleship its "do-or-die aim." How is this encouraged and carried out practically among your members?

Churches have personalities, and often take on the personalities of their leader. For better or worse, I know many of Perimeter's characteristics are due to my long tenure as the founding pastor. In our context we speak often of the mission to which we feel God has called us—to "make and deploy mature and equipped followers of Christ for the sake of family, community, and global transformation." That sets the table nicely for an ongoing need for people to be equipped and then to engage where they live, work, and play. Our desire is that they'd not be content to sit on the sidelines. We believe they want to invest their lives in something meaningful. So we encourage our people to become sincere worshipers and see themselves as kingdom ambassadors, taking the gospel to the people God has strategically placed in their lives. We could do better, but God has been kind as we continue to make ourselves available and seek to be faithful to his call on us as a church.

Kingdom ethics. Kingdom work. Kingdom building. Kingdom focus. Kingdom ministry. Kingdom you-fill-in-the-blank.

Whether employed as an adjective or a noun, the kingdom of God has become a popular subject in contemporary Christian conversation. And for good reason. It is, after all, a massive biblical category—so massive that it's easy for the concept to become blurry and disjointed.

With this confusion in mind, Robert Peterson and Christopher Morgan have edited The Kingdom of God, a volume intended to articulate a full-orbed view of the kingdom from the vantage points of the Old and New Testaments as well as historical, systematic, and practical theology. This latest installment in Crossway's Theology in Community series features contributions from Bruce Waltke, Robert Yarbrough, Gerald Bray, Clinton Arnold, Gregg Allison, Stephen Nichols, and more.

I corresponded with Morgan, dean and professor of theology at California Baptist University, and Peterson, professor of systematic theology at Covenant Theological Seminary, about how "kingdom" became an adjective, whether Paul preached Jesus' "gospel of the kingdom," if non-Christians can do kingdom work, how we misunderstand the kingdom, and more.

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The word "kingdom" has become something of a catch-all. So what is the kingdom of God?

That's a great observation, and you ask a hard question. Yes, "kingdom" has become a buzzword—much like "gospel"—and it connotes a variety of things, depending on context and who's talking.

In his two chapters on kingdom in the OT, Bruce Waltke proposes that the Bible bears witness to two forms of God's kingdom: a "universal kingdom" and a "particular kingdom." God's universal kingdom refers to the activity of God in exercising his sovereignty over all things. God parcels out to the nations their lands (Deut. 2:5, 9; 32:8), rules over their kings (2:30), and even gives them their gods (4:19; 29:25-26). God's particular kingdom refers to his exercise of authority over subjects who, because of faith in and love for him, serve him alone. These aspects of the kingdom emphasize the Lord's comprehensive kingship: he is King of all the earth (2 Kings 19:15; Isa. 6:5; Jer. 46:18; Pss. 29:10; 99:1-4), and of his chosen people in particular (Ex. 15:18; Num. 23:21; Deut. 33:5; Isa. 43:15).

In his two chapters on kingdom in the NT, Bob Yarbrough explains that the kingdom is enigmatic in nature. Yet in spite of this mystery, it still communicates something about the way things are meant to be. It points us to who God is as Ruler over his realm, who his people are as participants in his kingdom, what his church should be in giving praise to and witnessing for their King, and how the already/not yet tension should cause us to anticipate the King's coming in a world still marred by sin. God's kingdom is an all-encompassing force, meant to point his people to their ultimate King. As such, the kingdom tells us where true life is to be found—and it requires a response.

What's the "gospel of the kingdom" that Jesus preached? Did Paul preach this gospel?

Yarbrough's chapters are again noteworthy here, as he notes that the "gospel" is associated with the kingdom (e.g., Matt. 4:23; 9:35; 24:14) and examines the relationship between "gospel" and "kingdom." The gospel of the kingdom is "good news," a "favorable announcement." It transmits kingdom tidings. It announces that the reign of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is now present in a new way, to a new extent, and for a new purpose. Most importantly, it is inextricably bound to Jesus the King.

Yarbrough examines each reference to kingdom in Paul and proposes that the kingdom of God (or of Christ) is a foundational concept in his theology, much like an invisible software program running at all times in the background as Paul ministers and composes his letters.

What are some of the most common misunderstandings about the kingdom in Reformed evangelical circles today?

We don't like to paint with such a broad brush, as there are notable exceptions. But in general, we'd say there's a general neglect of this central biblical teaching. Though "kingdom" is a frequently used adjective, it's rarely the focus of the discussion. For example, when the kingdom is mentioned, it's often in the midst of theological sparring over the relationship of Israel and the church, the nature of the millennium, evangelism and social justice, and so forth. When we do address it, we tend to focus on the teachings of Jesus without any regard for the teachings of the OT. And how often do we hear about the kingdom in Acts, the General Epistles, or Revelation?

This may be in part why people often say that in Jesus the kingdom of God is "already and not yet." We agree. But aren't there also already-and-not-yet aspects of the kingdom in the OT? Indeed there are, and these are almost definitional to all salvation history prior to the consummation, when the already and not yet finally merge. Because of this neglect, we wonder whether Jesus' teachings about the already and not yet of the kingdom are understood as often as they're cited. His kingdom in some sense fulfills OT prophetic expectations and unites some of its teaching of the "not yet" to that of the "already." Yet he doesn't bring the kingdom in its final sense, and thus it's still already and not yet.

If Jesus possesses all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18), in what sense is Satan the "prince of the power of the air" (Eph. 2:2) and the "god of this world" (2 Cor. 4:4)—with "power" (Acts 26:18) to "bind" (Luke 13:16) and to "oppress" (Acts 10:38)?

Here's a good example of why it's important to understand the kingdom as universal in one sense and particular in another. It's also an example of why it's critical to hold to the tensive already and not yet of the kingdom (compare Eph. 1:20-23 to 1 Cor. 15:22-28).

Clint Arnold's chapter addresses this question and more as he clarifies that Jesus proclaims and brings God's kingdom in a context of strenuous opposition—chiefly from Satan. The kingdom comes, but neither instantly nor peacefully. And it comes through destroying every rule and power, through putting enemies under his feet, through putting all things in subjection to him, through conflict and conquest over the kingdom of Satan (1 Cor. 15:22-28). Indeed, creation is presently subject to two conflicting realities, one that's not eternal and one that is. Evil in its tyranny is real and destructive, but temporary. God's rule is universal, but still in the process of bringing evil to an end.

Can non-Christians do "kingdom work"?

Non-Christians cannot represent Christ or his particular reign. They can promote beauty, truth, justice, and goodness in a broad way. But since they don't submit themselves to Christ's reign, they cannot do kingdom work, which is by nature Christological.

Have you ever met an unconverted believer? Or watched blood transform into Kool-Aid at church?

David Platt has.

Almost three years since the release of his New York Times bestseller Radical, Platt has written a sequel about the painful glory of Christian discipleship. Follow Me: A Call to Die. A Call to Live (Tyndale, 2013) explores the gravity of our Lord's call as well as the joy and satisfaction found when we leverage our lives for him. During The Gospel Coalition National Conference next month, you can hear Platt speak twice on these themes: once on "Why the Great Commission Is Great" and again on "Every Disciple Making Disciples, Every Church Multiplying Churches."

I corresponded with Platt, pastor of The Church at Brook Hills in Birmingham, Alabama, about unconverted believers, whether the gospel's a call to life or to death, creating a culture of discipleship in our churches, and more.

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There are many new books related to following Jesus (e.g., Idleman's Not a Fan, Chan's Crazy Love and Multiply, Greear's Stop Asking Jesus Into Your Heart, Stearns's Unfinished). What is the problem in evangelical churches demanding this response?

Scores of people, here and around the world, culturally identify themselves as Christians who biblically are not followers of Christ. This creates a real sense of confusion about the nature of authentic faith in Jesus. On one hand, we can so dilute Christian faith to the point where we don't actually have it. On the other hand, we can so complicate Christian faith to the point where no one can really know if they have it. As a result, I think there's a great need to come back to Scripture in the church and ask the question, What's the kind of faith in Christ that saves? And what does it mean to follow him? I think books like the ones you mention represent various attempts to answer these all-important questions.

Is it possible to be an unconverted believer?

Certainly, in the sense that demons believe Jesus is who he said he was and did what Scripture says he did (James 2:19). Though such belief doesn't save, it's common across the world today. Just about every intoxicated person I meet on the street says he believes in Jesus. Scores of people I meet around the world—including some Hindus, animists, and Muslims—profess some level of faith in Christ. All kinds of halfhearted, world-loving church attenders confess belief in Jesus. Further, Jesus seems to make clear we can all profess publicly a faith we don't possess personally (e.g., hear the cry of the damned in Matt. 7:21-23). So biblically and practically, it's very possible for one to assent to certain intellectual truths about Jesus and even participate in various church practices—completely apart from supernatural regeneration of the heart.

Many believers, you observe, have "replaced challenging words from Christ with trite phrases in the church. We've practically taken the lifeblood out of Christianity and put Kool-Aid in its place so that it tastes better to the crowds." How do you see this temptation particularly evident in "young, restless, and Reformed" circles today?

Instead of thinking about the YRR in general, I think it's helpful for each of us to individually examine the subtle tendency and temptation we face to (almost unknowingly) redefine Christianity according to our own tastes, preferences, church traditions, and cultural norms. We can so easily begin picking and choosing what we particularly like (or don't like) from Jesus' teachings, emphasizing the truths in his Word that most square with our lives and ministries while minimizing those that most challenge us. In the process, we all (including myself) begin diluting what he says about the cost of following him.

Particularly in our culture, for example, we're prone to practically ignore what he says about materialism or to functionally miss what he says about mission. In the process, we transform Jesus into our image (whether that's a "YRR" Jesus, a "nice, non-offensive, politically correct, middle-class American" Jesus, or any other version) instead of trusting him to transform us into his. So we all need to guard against the temptation to customize Jesus—especially when what he says confronts (and often contradicts) the assumptions, beliefs, and convictions that we hold dear in our lives, our churches, and our culture.

You contend, "The Christian life does not ultimately begin with inviting Jesus to come into your heart. That invitation comes from him." What happens when we get this distinction wrong?

The importance of this distinction lies in realizing God's grace is the foundation of everything we understand about the Christian life—from start to finish. If the invitation to become a Christian ultimately depends on us as sinful men and women, we will never choose him. Yet because of his grace, God takes the initiative to call—and enable—us to follow Jesus, which then transforms everything about how we understand the Christian life.

We now realize that to be a Christian is to be loved, pursued, and found by God. We realize that in our sin we were separated from his presence, deserving nothing but his wrath. Yet despite our darkness and deadness, his light shone on us and his voice spoke to us, summoning us to follow him. His majesty captivated our soul and his mercy covered our sin, and by his death he brought us to life. We ultimately became his children not because of any good we did—any prayers we prayed, steps we took, or boxes we checked—but solely because of his lavish grace. We realize every single moment of the Christian life—from normal spiritual discipline to radical biblical devotion—is fueled by the God who not only pursued us by grace in the past but also empowers us by grace in the present and emboldens us with an unshakeable guarantee of grace in the future.

You write, "In the gospel, God is calling [you] to die." We're used to thinking of the gospel as a call to life, but in what sense is it also—even first—a call to death?

The initial call to Christ is an inevitable call to die, and it's been so since the beginning. Jesus came into a world where everything revolves around self—protect yourself, promote yourself, preserve yourself, entertain yourself, comfort yourself, take care of yourself—and his message was clear: "Slay yourself." The moment of salvation involves not only confession of sin but death to self—death to our every self-indulgent attempt to find life apart from God and every self-righteous attempt to find life by earning his favor. We die to ourselves and trust in Christ, identifying with the One who lived the life we couldn't live, died the death we deserve to die, and conquered the enemy (death itself) we couldn't conquer. When this happens, we identify with Paul: "I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live" (Gal. 2:20). In other words, "I've died."

Of course, the beauty comes in what the apostle says next: "Christ now lives in me, and the life I live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." Just as Jesus promised, in losing our lives we gain them. This is the beauty of what we see in the first disciples in the first century, and it's my desire for every disciple in the church today: that we'd all, in greater and deeper ways, realize that following Christ costs us everything we have (a daily death to self), but that he's worth it. For in him, there is satisfaction that supersedes circumstance, love that surpasses comprehension, and an overarching purpose for living that transcends every other pursuit in this world. If we don't emphasize the weight of this call to death in the gospel, we'll never realize the wonder of the call to life in the gospel.

You observe, "Masses of men, women, and children around the world are sitting comfortably under the banner of Christianity but have never counted the cost of following Christ." Besides robust expository preaching, how can a local church create a culture in which discipleship is perceived and practiced properly?

I certainly want to accent "robust expository preaching" because it's truly the week-by-week teaching of every part of Scripture for what it says (not what we wish it did) that keeps us from the dangers of cultural, casual, customizable Christianity.

Beyond this, I can think of several other practical ways to create a culture of Christ-exalting, risk-taking discipleship in the church. Here are just three:

(1) Prayerful dependence on and desperation for God's Spirit in the church. We'll never grow as disciples or give our lives to making disciples so long as we're doing so in our own power, ingenuity, innovation, and wisdom.

(2) Healthy biblical community involving grace-driven, gospel-saturated accountability for growing as disciples and giving ourselves to making them. I'm zealous to war against the spectator mentality that sees the Great Commission as a cozy call to come, get baptized, and sit in one location instead of going, baptizing, and teaching in all nations. I'm convinced biblical disciple-making demands the intersection of biblical community and biblical mission. Our churches, then, must have an outlet for such disciple-making in a way that both nurtures community and promotes mission.

(3) Healthy understanding of both local and global disciple-making. Since wherever we live is the chief place we're going to make disciples, we must encourage one another to lead others to follow Christ in our homes, neighborhoods, communities, and cities. At the same time, we must understand there are homes, neighborhoods, communities, and cities around the globe with little to no gospel access. Not only haven't they heard, the chances of them ever hearing are slim unless something changes. And something has to change!

We must change the ways we're praying, giving, and going so that all the peoples of the world might hear Christ's gospel and exalt Christ's glory. This won't happen by simply creating a missions committee, taking a missions offering, or tacking a "missions week" onto our annual church calendar. This will happen when we infuse God's zeal for his global glory—both in our neighborhoods and among all nations—into the very fabric of our churches on a weekly basis, calling persons to pray, give, and go with a special view to those who've never heard. Local ministry is totally necessary, no question. But global missions is tragically neglected. So we must give ourselves to both—and call all followers of Christ to give themselves to both. This is the only obedient response to a King who's commanded us to make disciples of all nations.

What's your pet theological topic? You know you have one. That issue of urgent, all-embracing, hill-to-die-on significance. You're fired up right now, and it's only the fourth sentence!

It's easy to focus on one aspect of the faith to the neglect of others. To be honest, we're probably all more unbalanced than we realize or care to admit. In Faithmapping: A Gospel Atlas for Your Spiritual Journey (Crossway, 2013) [video interview | promo video], Daniel Montgomery and Mike Cosper aim to help us cultivate a proportioned, holistic view of the Christian life. As the title suggests, the book is meant to function like a map, connecting the gospel to the manifold dimensions of human experience.

I corresponded with Montgomery and Cosper, pastors of Sojourn Community Church in Louisville, Kentucky, about the concept of faithmapping, ministerial burnout, counseling discouraged employees, rest and play, and more.

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"Faithmapping" is a new word for me. What is it? 

As far as we know, it's a made-up word. We wanted a metaphor for tracing out the interconnected nature of the gospel, the church, and the church's mission in the world. One of the things we like about the concept of a map is that it presents the gospel as something bigger than you as an individual; it's a world to explore, rather than sound bites and concepts to memorize.

It's a paradox that the gospel has this remarkable ability to be both simple and complex. The simplest presentations of it are true and can be unpacked to exhibit the whole picture, but we walk into dangerous territory when we believe the simple presentations are the whole story. So Faithmapping aims to present the whole story—seeing even "sound bite" gospel presentations as waypoints on a map. When you see the map, you see some context, some interconnectivity.

Recounting a particularly difficult time when you (Daniel) contemplated stepping down as pastor, you write, "It was no longer a mystery to me why so many pastors have short tenures in churches and ministry." Why is this the case, and how might the principles of faithmapping help a burned-out church leader?

Pastoral burnout can happen for all kinds of reasons, so I don't want to be reductionistic about it. But in modern evangelicalism, success is defined by the ABCs—attendance, buildings, and cash. For many pastors, the principles driving that kind of success can feel completely disconnected from the doctrines and principles that made them feel called to ministry in the first place.

And in some ways, they are. Faithful ministry is always fruitful ministry, yes, but "fruitfulness" must be defined biblically, not culturally. Pastors need to be freed from the tyranny of the ABCs, and the only thing that can ultimately do that is the gospel.

In Faithmapping, we're trying to encourage folks to see the gospel through three lenses: the kingdom of God, the cross of Christ, and the grace of God. Regarding pastoral burnout, these three aspects provide three different dimensions of comfort and assurance—three different ways of offering "good news."

First, the gospel of the kingdom reminds us God's work is bigger than us and ultimately out of our hands. His kingdom is advancing, with or without our help. Second, the cross of Christ simultaneously reminds us of our sinfulness and Christ's sufficiency. In other words, in spite of our insufficiency, we have nothing to earn or prove before God. That's a huge relief for pastors hounded and plagued by a quiet sense of penance or self-justification via ministry. Finally, the grace of God is a comforting word that, amid the mess of our lives and ministries, God is lovingly present. He hasn't merely set aside his wrath; he's genuinely pleased with us in Christ.

This knowledge, ultimately, is the only sustaining hope in ministry.

What's the significance of the "five identities" of those whose lives have been transformed by the good news of God's kingdom, cross, and grace? 

The identities as we've identified them (worshipers, servants, disciples, family, and witnesses) aren't really anything new. You could find a variety of pastors identifying similar categories from all over the cultural map, like Jeff Vanderstelt and Rick Warren. For us, in Faithmapping, we want to show how those values flow naturally from the message of the gospel.

Let's put this in context a bit. Over the last 10 years we've heard a lot about churches whose primary emphasis and identity is built around a value like service. They become, in the eyes of their members and their surrounding communities, the church that serves. All their resources are invested in loving and serving their communities in Jesus' name. And they're often successful. They attract new members, evangelize successfully, and grow and expand.

But that central identity has a way of becoming an interpretive grid, too. So evangelism and discipleship are defined in terms of service. Evangelism isn't just winning people to Jesus, but making them servants. Discipleship means watching them grow into truly excellent servants. The gospel itself becomes defined in terms of this value, too: the God who serves, the cross as humble service . . . you get the point.

This same thing can be done with any of the church's identities. We see churches whose defining value and orienting principle are things like service, discipleship, missions, family, or worship.

These are all good things. What we're arguing for, though, is a correction in priority and order. The gospel is the foundation, the building block of the church from which we can live out these identities. With the gospel as our orienting principle, these identities are illumined in relation to one another, and we are (hopefully) guarded from overemphasis or reactionary tendencies.

"As the gospel takes root in us," you write, "it transforms the way we approach our work." How would you encourage a believer whose job feels like pure drudgery, who thinks, There's just no way I'm making a difference?

The problem is almost never the jobs themselves. (The exceptions are fairly obvious; if you're supporting institutional evils in the sex industry, or nurturing addictions, or using oppressive and predatory business practices, you need to get a new job.) We need to think instead about how to be a faithful and transformative presence at our jobs—which is to say, how to be a Christian at work.

Work itself is a good thing, and even the most mundane tasks have a way of contributing to the wider world, either directly (by providing products and services that help us inhabit our worlds) or indirectly (by supporting the greater economy and providing jobs).

When we talk about the gospel transforming our work, we're ultimately talking about the gospel transforming us and our vision for how we relate to others.

How should the gospel inform a Christian's mindset and habits concerning rest and play?

It's fascinating that, despite numerous studies, surveys, books, and articles telling us otherwise, we remain a culture that's frantic, restless, overworked, and exhausted. It's rare to meet people who say they love their lifestyle. Instead, you hear this steady refrain: "I'm so tired," "I'm so burned out," "I'm overcommitted." Somehow we've become convinced this is the key to the good life. Exhaustion, then, isn't a sign of weakness; it's a badge of honor and a sign of ambition.

We think these tendencies have their roots in deep spiritual insecurity. We're a people with something to prove. The world needs to know that we've got what it takes, that we're wanted, that we're strong enough to power through. But such insecurity can only be resolved by the gospel, which demands profound acknowledgement of weakness. We aren't strong enough, after all.

That acknowledgement is met at the cross, where God accepts us freely at Christ's expense. We're gifted with the greatest affirmation the world has ever known, which frees us from the burden of having something to prove. That's how the gospel transforms rest and play: it frees us to actually engage in them without the nagging "urgency" of something more important.

Faithmapping: A Gospel Atlas For Your Spiritual Journey from Crossway on Vimeo.

Currently, there are 42 lawsuits across the country that are challenging the Obama administration's contraceptive-abortifacient mandate as a violation of Christian conscience, making 2013 a particularly important year for religious liberty. For good or for ill, these cases will play an unusually important role in defining our national commitment to religious liberty

To better understand the implications of the mandate, TGC interviewed Daniel Blomberg, the legal counsel for the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty. Blomberg, the son of an ordained evangelical minister, earned a degree in Bible from Columbia International University before graduating magna cum laude from the University of South Carolina School of Law. Before joining Becket, he clerked for Chief Judge Alice M. Batchelder of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit and, before that, served as litigation counsel with Alliance Defending Freedom.

What is the mission and purpose of the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty?

The Becket Fund is a non-profit, public-interest institute that protects the free expression of all faiths. We exist to protect people as they exercise their right and duty to relate to God as their conscience leads. And we do so for all religions:  at the Becket Fund, we like to say that we've defended to religious rights of people from "A to Z," from Anglicans to Zoroastrians. We want to help realize a world where religious freedom is respected as a fundamental human right that all are entitled to enjoy and exercise.

Why should evangelicals care about the HHS Mandate?

On one level, simply because other evangelicals are being harmed by the HHS Mandate. Wheaton College, Colorado Christian University, and Hobby Lobby (which is owned by David Green, a devout evangelical)—among others—have gone to court so that they won't have to do what the Mandate says they must do:  provide insurance coverage for abortion-inducing drugs like ella and Plan B. As institutions, they share the evangelical commitment to cherishing the God-given worth of human beings from the earliest stages of their lives. But the Mandate coerces them to provide life-taking drugs, on pain of crushing fines—fines that would shut them down. Thus, evangelicals should care about the HHS Mandate because it coerces fellow evangelicals to violate their duty to obey God and protect human life.

On another level, evangelicals should care because of the unprecedented nature of the HHS Mandate's threat. Our nation's Founders made religious liberty our first political liberty because they recognized that it was the foundational political liberty. As recently as last January, in the Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church case, members of the U.S. Supreme Court affirmed that religious groups are the critical shields between the individual and the power of the State, between liberty and tyranny. If the State can broadly force individuals and private institutions to directly violate core religious beliefs, then liberty itself—not just religious liberty—is threatened. For that reason, evangelicals should support the conscience claims of, for instance, Catholic institutions who oppose the Mandate both on sanctity-of-life grounds and because of the Mandate's contraception-coverage requirement. Even though most evangelicals do not agree with Catholic doctrine on contraception, they can and should support the claims of Catholic individuals and institutions to freedom of conscience. Anything less signals a weak commitment to both religious liberty and personal liberty.

Does the Administration's new proposed change to the Mandate solve the religious liberty problem?

No. Just two weeks ago, the Administration issued a proposal that altered some aspects of the Mandate while leaving most of the problems unchanged. First of all, it's just a proposal and has no force of law, unlike the Mandate, which is law (albeit one created via bureaucratic regulation instead of congressional legislation). Further, it offers absolutely nothing to evangelical business owners like David Green, who is left with a choice between violating his faith or paying around $1 million dollars per day for the privilege of doing business without covering abortion drugs. That shows a stunning coldness to the religious liberty of family businesses, and it's all the more brazen given how poorly the Mandate is doing in federal court. There are more than a dozen lawsuits filed on behalf of family businesses, and over 70% of the decisions so far have supported the businesses.

Religious nonprofits such as Wheaton College and Colorado Christian University also have little to cheer about. Along with hundreds of thousands of other Americans, they asked the Administration for a complete exemption from the Mandate. Despite having over a year to come up with a solution, all that the Administration offered two weeks ago was an 80-page "accommodation" that creates a new insurance bureaucracy that appears both unworkable and, for many, unlikely to provide sufficient protection for conscience. The basic idea of the "accommodation" is that a religious nonprofit's insurer will automatically provide abortion-drug (and contraceptive) coverage instead of the religious nonprofit having to do so, and that the government will provide a complicated reimbursement to the insurer for the coverage. If that sounds unclear, it's because the proposal is unclear. And it is even worse for self-insured nonprofits like Wheaton College, who don't have an external insurer. For them, there's no proposed rule, just a handful of questionable suggestions offered for public comment.

Finally, for the extraordinarily narrow religious exemption that is currently in the Mandate, the Administration proposes removing the offensive language that exempts only those religious organizations that minister to their own members. But that's hardly much of an improvement given that the Administration says that it does not intend the new exemption to be any broader than the old one. Worse, while the existing exemption allows exempt ministries to provide insurance for non-exempt affiliated organizations (such as a church covering its related daycare ministry), the new exemption would remove that umbrella protection.

In a way, the whole proposal reminds me of the old Calvin and Hobbes cartoon where Calvin seeks to soften his mother up by first asking if he can set fire to his mattress and then if he can ride his tricycle on the roof; after getting the expected "No, Calvin" to both requests, he makes his move and asks if he can have a cookie. When she calmly answers "No, Calvin" again, Calvin realizes "she's on to me."  By comparison, the Administration started its attack on religious liberty so outrageously that its proposal could seem, at least to some, almost reasonable by comparison. But the answer to the question "Is this infringement on religious liberty okay?" is still "No."

What is the current status of the lawsuits the Becket Fund is defending?

All of the lawsuits remain unchanged by the Administration's proposal. The lawsuits that, like the Hobby Lobby case, are pending remain pending; the lawsuits that, like the Wheaton College case, are stayed remain stayed. And our goal remains unchanged:  obtaining an exemption for the religious objectors. When people have legitimate conscience objections, our nation has a proud history of exempting them out of respect for their consciences; that's what should happen here. We welcome the Administration to make that happen and, if they won't, we will continue asking federal courts to do so.

Do you think it is likely this issue will be taken up by the Supreme Court? And if so, how do you think they'll decide?

The issue certainly appears to be headed to the Supreme Court, and the cases on behalf of businesses like Hobby Lobby will most likely be the first ones to arrive there. While I can't predict how the Court would ultimately come down on the issue, the overwhelming success of businesses in lower federal courts is definitely a good sign.

The Obama administration has opened a comment period on its proposed rule that lasts until April 8. Anyone who wishes to comment can, and Planned Parenthood has already started seeking comments that are favorable to the proposal. You can let the Administration know what you think here by typing in your comment or uploading a document that you've already saved which contains your comment.