The Gospel Coalition

James MacDonald on preaching:

For all the difficult trade-offs that come with living your Christian life in public, we get the joy of holding God’s Word in our hands, rightly dividing the Word of truth, and watching it change lives. That’s so much bigger than having free weekends.

Thom Rainer makes some observations about church staff:

How churches decide their staffing needs is almost as varied as the number of churches. Any maybe the “cookie cutter” approach is not the best way to staff churches today. Maybe churches truly understand their unique communities, congregations, and missional thrust more clearly. Maybe the churches are responding to the unique call of God on their congregations in the way they decide staff. If so, this trend of inconsistency may not be such a bad thing after all.

Alvin Reid on being missional:

I believe in the missional movement happening today. I embrace it, if by missional you mean thinking like and living like a missionary who intentionally shares the gospel with people.  It could be only my viewpoint and I could be totally wrong, but I do fear that in the middle of all the missional talk there is remarkably very little talk about personal evangelism. You know, sharing the gospel with real people and giving them the opportunity to respond to Christ by faith.

Ken Samples lists ten historic Christian theological texts:

Throughout history, these theological books have impacted both the church and the world. I chose these works in order to provide a broad scope of historic Christian thought, although I do not necessarily agree with every point these authors make. But whatever your branch of Christendom or denominational attachment, I do encourage you to consider these books for your theological reflection. In historical order only

Yesterday, I wondered out loud about the role of September 11 in the rise of New Calvinism. Today, I’ve invited several well-known pastors to reflect on doing ministry in a post 9/11 world. The question I posed to these men was: “How does living in a post-9/11 world influence the way you preach and do ministry?” Here are their responses:

Matt Chandler:

9/11 created some legitimate seriousness in what I perceived in 2001 to be a general silliness among a bulk of younger evangelicals, a comfort with the shallow end of the pool.  This manifested itself in a concentration on what we should or shouldn’t be doing that was driven by moralism and wasn’t flowing from  transformed hearts.

The grief, fear and shock of that day revealed that for all of the comfort in the shallow end there was a need for transcendence, greater depth, we needed deeper water.  Depth that could help us understand how such things could happen, could show us where God was that day.  Depth that could help us worship when everything was going wrong not just when everything was going right.  An understanding of God that went beyond our personal safety, bank accounts and health.  We need an understanding of the nature and character of God and how He interacts with His covenant community, how He interacts with the fallen world and where our hope should be placed.

Kevin DeYoung:

I was just starting my last year of seminary on September 11, 2001. My theology of preaching was already pretty well set. After reading Calvin, Edwards, the Puritans, and lots of Lloyd-Jones I knew that I wanted to be a preacher that would try to give people a big picture of a big God.

9/11 didn’t change my convictions about ministry or about preaching. But it certainly confirmed that pastoral ministry could not skirt past the hard issues of life. I didn’t want a God, a theology, a view of eternity, or an approach to ministry that would look trite next to the rubble of the Twin Towers.

Thabiti Anyabwile:

When 9/11 occurred, I was waking from a comfortable night’s sleep in an upscale San Antonio hotel.  While dressing, I watched the news footage like most people—dumbstruck.  After I gathered a good sense of what was happening, called to check on my wife and daughters in D.C., I joined my coworkers gathering in a hotel conference room for a discussion of public policy and improving the life outcomes of children and families.  When I arrived, I found a room heavy with confusion, sadness, and fear.  We were a collection of policy professionals from around the country—lots of us with family and friends in Washington, D. C. and New York.  In the silence, confusion, and sporadic telephone connections with family were the questions, “What’s going on?”  and, “Who is in control?”  A few dared ask, “Is God involved in any of this?”

I was the lone evangelical Christian in a group of committed political and social progressives.  I wasn’t in the room 3 minutes before everyone was looking to me for an answer and for prayer.

That scene reminds me that everyone needs to answer some basic, deep questions about life.  Is God involved in my life?  Who is in control?  How do I explain this pain?  It also taught me that, at bottom, we all need to encounter the majestic, glorious, merciful, and awesome God of the Scripture.  He’s the only God there is.  And when we really need Him, we need Him in all His bigness and splendor.  Suffering people hardly settle for a puny god.

So, I want to preach in such a way that recognizes that the God that truly is and the God we truly need holds all things in His hand.  He rules and reigns with no rivals.  And when the world seems to come undone, the sovereign God of the Bible is who we need.  In truth, we need that God all the time and the purpose of preaching in a post-9/11 world is to simultaneously reveal Him in sovereign glory while stripping away the mundane to expose our deep need for Him.  Most of us live in a routine-induced daze that distracts us from ultimate matters.  Preaching is the audible interruption of that daze to ask, “Do you see this great God?  Come and love Him!”

J.D. Greear:

9-11 of course did not introduce tragedy into our world, but it certainly elevated it in our public concsciousness. In a tragedy-less world, simple, practical, ‘how-to’ messages seem relevant, but in the midst of deep pain and troubling questions, “3 ways to fix x in your life” is less so. Deep calls unto deep, and a God who is better than the pain and deeper than the questions is the only thing relevant.

Since 9-11, I have found that the distinction between preaching relevantly and preaching deeply has vanished. Deep is the new relevant. (Unless, of course, by “deep” you mean parsing tenses of inconsequential, obscure Greek words or minute dimensions of theology. That is neither deep nor relevant.) If by depth we mean “depth in gospel”– showing how the God of the gospel is a superior trust than all other false idols, and how the wisdom displayed at the cross is deeper than the questions asked, then there is nothing more relevant to the modern audience than that. It sounds ironic to say, but I find the “traditional seeker sermon” to be no longer very relevant. Silly, shallow sermons may attract bored, cultural Christians from other churches, but that number is rapidly shrinking.

Increasingly our society is made up of  true skeptics and fervent believers; both want, and need deep, gospel-saturated preaching. Indeed, in my observation, both are turned off through light, personality-driven entertainment.

This collection of letters in The Atlantic will certainly help pastors and church leaders understand some of the angst and disillusionment among the younger generation. Profiles of the Jobless: The Mad Millennial Generation

The response from young people has been so overwhelming that we’ve decided to publish a second round of the most passionate, indignant and poignant dispatches from (or about) Millennials, or Generation Y.

A Movement of “Courageous” Culture-Making Churches:

Yet what I find so fascinating here, and so encouraging in the example of Sherwood Films, is the very concept that churches — and not merely individuals — can be culture-makers.  The church as the filmmaker.  The church as the artist.  There’s interesting biblical precedent.  The scriptures tell us that the ancient Hebrews not only brought their treasures for the tabernacle and the Temple, but that craftsmen of all kinds gave their talents and expertise.  Perhaps churches can marshal their resources as well as their people and all their gifts to create world-changing works of art.  If highbrow Christians are sometimes embarrassed at the dialogue or the predictability of the script, then perhaps they can lend their talents and make them better.

The Power of the Poached Egg:

All of us appreciate good writing. We may not know that, and if we know that we probably don’t know why. But we all prefer to read something written well. There’s a way to communicate the truth and have it sound muddled. There’s a way to make it understandable. And then there’s a way to make it sing. That’s the difference between clear prose and great prose. Let me give you an example from C.S. Lewis…

The Marginalization of Marriage in Middle America:

At the collective level, the retreat from marriage has played a noteworthy role in fueling the growth in family income inequality and child poverty that has beset the nation since the 1970s. For all these reasons, then, the institution of marriage has been an important pillar of the American Dream, and the erosion of marriage in Middle America is one reason the dream is increasingly out of reach for men, women, and children from moderately-educated homes.

In 2007, Mark Dever wrote a series of blog posts titled “Where’d All These Calvinists Come From?” He listed 10 reasons for the blossoming of Reformed theology’s Tulip within evangelicalism, including influential pastors like Spurgeon, Lloyd-Jones, Piper, and MacArthur. He also referenced the inerrancy controversy within the Southern Baptist Convention, authors like J.I. Packer, and publishers like Banner of Truth. From this wide range of sources, Dever unearthed the roots of the recent Reformed Resurgence.

I agree with all of Dever’s choices. But I wonder if there is a significant cultural event that could be added: September 11, 2001. It may be true that a variety of practices, preachers, and publishers laid the groundwork for the recent swell of Reformed theology. But why has the greatest growth of the movement taken place only in the past decade? What role has September 11 played in the Reformed Resurgence?

In speaking of September 11, I am referring not only to the terrorist attacks, but also the events set in motion by the terrorists. Two costly wars. Terrorism scares. The Great Recession. These related events compounded the cultural change initiated by the hijackers.

Furthermore, the past decade has delivered a number of horrible disasters (two massive tsunamis, Hurricane Katrina, earthquakes in Asia and Latin America, tornadoes in the Southeast). Though not related to September 11, perhaps these tragedies have also played a role in the New Calvinism by forcing Christians to wrestle with difficult doctrines. For many of us, the result has been an increased appreciation for the sovereignty of God in the midst of human suffering.

There is no way to measure the impact of September 11 on evangelicalism. At best, we can see hints here and there as to its theological repercussions. Other than the people who were there and experienced the horror, it’s unlikely that many people would attribute any sort of theological shift to the events of that dreadful day. I doubt that many of the Young, Restless, and Reformed would consider September 11 to be an important moment in their turn toward Reformed theology.

But sometimes, it’s not our personal journeys that carry the most influence. It’s the cultural air that we breathe. Is it possible that September 11 and its cultural aftershocks “changed the air” so to speak, so that a wide segment of evangelicalism began entertaining questions that didn’t seem as pressing before?

Let’s look at a few ways in which the post-9/11 culture may have created an environment conducive to the rise of New Calvinism:

1. September 11 forced “the problem of evil” to the forefront of theological reflection.

Terrorism brought the concept of “evil” back from a purgatory of positive thinking and practical theology. Politicians started using the term again. Preachers began sermon series on the reality of evil and suffering. Our society’s aversion to words like “evil” and “sin” suddenly appeared like an ostrich trying to avoid the truth.

But many young people went beyond mere recognition of evil’s existence. We began working through questions related to God’s sovereignty and human responsibility. The classic problem of evil (“If God is good and all-powerful, why does evil exist?”) came roaring back as a topic of intense discussion.

Before September 11, my beliefs about evil and suffering had always bowed to the reality of free will:
God wants to be loved.
Love cannot be forced.
Therefore, God gives us free will.
Anything bad that happens is a result of humans using their free will.
God cannot be blamed.

After September 11, this standard line of argumentation crumbled. Having witnessed the carnage of the terrorist attacks, I questioned whether free will was worth the trouble. Is it worth it having free will just so God can be loved without force? Isn’t there something bigger than our love for God?

I also realized that the free will response didn’t get God off the hook; it just pushed His presence into the distance a little further. I remember thinking: With a word, He could have altered the plane’s direction to miss the building. In an instant, He could have alerted security screeners’ eyes to the terrorists and exposed them before they ever got on the plane. He could have empowered the passengers of United 93 to not only burst into the cockpit but also take control of the plane before it crashed. Could, could, could. But He did not. Why not? Does choosing not to stop a tragedy you could prevent make you, in some way, partly culpable?

2. September 11 created an environment in which the easy answers of pop evangelicalism were no longer satisfying.

The typical evangelical response to “9/11 problem of evil” questions was to shrug them off and take comfort in the “God-moments” that occurred on that day. Emails circulated telling the story of the woman who narrowly escaped the tower before it fell, or the two beams forged together in the heat as a makeshift cross, or the Bible that was preserved in a smoldering section of the Pentagon. Rather than wrestle with the big questions, many Christians took comfort in the kindness of a providential God who kept the worst from occurring.

But I remember how these responses seemed so inadequate. The towers fell. Some people survived. Praise God! But others died. Do we still praise God? If God were involved in a person’s survival, was He not also involved in the life that perished? 

Then, there was the sentimental response. “Where was God on 9/11?” He was there, in all the heroic acts of that day. God was in the firefighters who plunged to their deaths with the towers. God was in the rescue workers treating people on the scene. God was in the volunteers who spent days trying to rescue people from the rubble.

But this response was inadequate too. It merely drew attention away from the bigger and more intense questions: Where was God when the hijackers took over the planes? Where was God when it really mattered? The vision of God put forth by many evangelicals was that of a doting grandfather who arrived too late to stop the tragedy, but in time to help us put the pieces back together again.

3. The post 9/11 culture was ripe for a generation of young people to dig into the Bible for answers to some of life’s most perplexing questions.

The typical evangelical responses were superficial, and I rejected them. They offered temporary comfort by pushing aside the hard questions. Judging from conversations I’ve had with many friends, the sentimental response didn’t resonate with them either. And the next few years only intensified the problem. The schmaltzy, family-friendly banter of Christian radio and books didn’t tell us why our friends were coming home from the Middle East in body bags.

September 11 did more than rock the foundations of the Twin Towers. It changed the cultural ethos and rocked the theological foundations of many younger evangelicals. We started questioning things we had always assumed. Many of us started digging deep. We wanted answers. And Reformed theology didn’t shy away from the hard questions.

When I think about the Christians I went to school with and the friends I had in my church youth group, I see two directions. Some of us wrestled with these issues and then stepped back, staying in the safe, sentimental view typical of evangelical responses. But the majority wound up becoming Reformed or at least Reformed-leaning. They found John Piper and the depth of his insight related to human suffering. They found other pastors and teachers who were not afraid to tackle the hard questions. My brother, who returned from Iraq last year, told me that the books being read by his fellow soldiers were written by men like Piper and Sproul, not Rob Bell and Donald Miller.

In a post 9/11 world, shallow evangelicalism didn’t have the answers that many younger evangelicals were longing for. Many of us eventually came to grips with a majestic, ferocious, and irresistibly attractive God who burst all the boxes we had wanted to keep Him in.
God was in control.
The evil of 9/11, though not approved by God, is somehow part of His master plan.
The cross reminds us that God can bring the greatest good from the greatest evil.
No pain is therefore senseless.
And God will one day defeat evil forever. 

Reformed theology gave a younger generation a vision of a God who is big enough to have unknown reasons for allowing evil acts to take place and big enough to defeat evil for good. The doctrine of God’s sovereignty wasn’t about scoring debate points with theological nerds, but a haven of rest and assurance in the midst of turbulent times.

4. September 11 has marked the ministry of a younger generation of pastors.

Many of today’s young preachers and teachers have different sensibilities than the baby boomer generation that proceeded them. Listen to Matt Chandler and David Platt and you won’t hear messages filled with practical tips to bettering your life today. Instead, you hear men with distinctive styles addressing some of the toughest questions of life. Chandler preaches through Habakkuk while recovering from brain surgery for a tumor. David Platt leads his church to reflection (theology) and action (service) on behalf of a Birmingham ravaged by tornadoes. The preaching ministry of many younger pastors has been significantly shaped by the reality of life in a post-9/11 world.

Yes, health and wealth teaching continues to rise unabated. The Emerging Church burst onto the scene and then faded. Some have found answers in Open Theism. Joel Osteen is America’s most influential pastor, and he is about as far from preaching about real pain and sorrow as any pastor could be. And yet, there is a large number of younger evangelicals who aren’t impressed with any of these other options. The post-9/11 culture indirectly shaped the questions and issues of younger evangelicals. Those of us who went looking for answers found help from the people and publishers mentioned in Mark Dever’s series.

I’m not sure we can connect the dots from September 11 to the rise of the New Calvinism in a way that makes sense of all the data. Still, when asking “where did all these Calvinists come from?” it’s interesting to note that in the 1990′s, there was a Reformed rumbling. But only after September 11 was there a Reformed resurgence.

America’s coolest houses:

Cool houses are always experiments, domestic laboratories where designers, builders, and homeowners work out better ways to live.

J.D. Greear reviews David Platt’s Radical Together: 

The question underlying all the others is this: Does the shape and focus of our ministries reflect what we say we believe about the gospel?

Billy Graham reflects on the end of life:

“The best way to meet the challenges of old age is to prepare for them now, before they arrive,” says Graham.

“I invite you to explore with me not only the realities of life as we grow older but also the hope and fulfillment – and even joy – that can be ours once we learn to look at these years from God’s point of view and discover His strength to sustain us every day.”

The Sinful Tragedy of Boredom:

The desire to cry out “bored!” is not only for children. It’s also a far more serious issue than being between a child and a parent. Boredom effects adults too, and it occurs between Christians and their Father in Heaven.

1. For many decades, Labor Day was seen as a day for workers to voice their complaints and discuss better working conditions and pay. (Source)

2. Under an obscure Virginia code, state law prohibits local school systems from making the first day of school any earlier than the day after Labor Day. (Source)

3. The first Labor Day holiday was celebrated on Tuesday, September 5, 1882, in New York City, in accordance with the plans of the Central Labor Union. (Source)

4. President Grover Cleveland declared Labor Day a national holiday in 1894. (Source)

5. Labor Day in many countries is celebrated as May Day or International Workers Day (May 1), which was originally spawned by Europe’s proletariat movement, largely inspired by Communism. (Source)

6. In U.S. sports, Labor Day marks the beginning of the NFL and college football seasons.

7. Labor Day is the last day when it’s fashionable for women to wear white. (Source)

Teach me, O God, so to use all the circumstances of my life today
that they may bring forth in me the fruits of holiness rather than the fruits of sin.

Let me use disappointment as material for patience;
Let me use success as material for thankfulness;
Let me use suspense as material for perseverance;
Let me use danger as material for courage;
Let me use reproach as material for longsuffering;
Let me use praise as material for humility;
Let me use pleasures as material for temperance;
Let me use pains as material for endurance.

- John Baillie,  A Diary of Private Prayer

For it is not mere words that nourish the soul, but God Himself, and unless and until the hearers find God in personal experience they are not the better for having heard the truth.

The Bible is not an end in itself, but a means to bring men to an intimate and satisfying knowledge of God, that they may enter into Him, that they may delight in His Presence, may taste and know the inner sweetness of the very God Himself in the core and center of their hearts.

- A.W. Tozer, The Pursuit of God

Seven links for your weekend reading:

1. The Biggest Theological Debate of the Next Twenty Years

2. UNC’s Psalm 100′s Difficult Decision of Asking a Gay Ministry Leader to Step Down

3. Apologetics Makes a Comeback Among Youth

4. Four Myths about the Crusades

5. Interesting. This is an animated pie chart representing 30 years of music industry revenue.

6. Where Wisdom Can Be Found: Preaching Jesus from Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Job

7. Can You Miss God’s Will for Your Life?

*** If you are in the Massachussetts or Rhode Island area, I’d love to meet you at the Psalm 119 Conference on September 23-24. I’ll be speaking, along with Tim Challies, Bob Glenn, and some other brothers. ***