Come Down, Lord!

  When I was in seminary, I listened in awe as a professor shared with the class how he had memorized the book of Philippians. I thought he was a prodigy. I knew I couldn't do that! And then, a few years later, I came across a tremendous resource. This website offered a way to memorize the New Testament in five years . * All I had to do was memorize four to six new verses every day. I began that project in 2010. And while I never came very close to memorizing the New Testament, I did manage to memorize whole books of the Bible, including Philippians. For a while, I was very deliberate about my memory work, and I stuck to it. There was a time when each night before going to sleep I would rehearse one of those books. In hindsight, I wish I had never stopped. But eventually, I became busy with other things and let a lot of it slip. Now that I have more time again, I have been going over my old verses, and I am amazed at how much I have retained, and still more amazed by how little w...

  A few months ago I was doing some genealogical work, and it's got me thinking a lot about the Quakers because, for many generations, my ancestors were Quakers. But there were also Methodists and Baptists in our background. And, of course, they had some rather significant differences, and I expect these differences would seem particularly accentuated when viewed from the vantage point of a nominal adherent. Seeing only the outward realities, a nominal Baptist might have very little in common with a nominal Quaker. But among the born again there is something foundationally in common.  It isn’t only that we share an emphasis on the person and work of Jesus Christ. It's deeper, and it's experiential. We may not agree on particular customs or doctrines, but what we have in common is so great it eclipses all the differences. And what we share in common, of course, is this new birth. What has happened to the born again Quaker has also happened to the born again Methodist and ...

In a recent article , Rosaria Butterfield and Jared Moore suggested that “annihilationism and celibate gay theology are twin heresies and should be denounced as such.” I have great respect for Rosaria, and I believe I understand that concern that lies behind her comments. In an age where many are abandoning the old paths, I am grateful for her faithfulness and her willingness to contend earnestly for the faith. But is annihilationism, like celibate gay theology, heresy? I do not believe it is. The article by Butterfield and Moore raises a question that extends beyond annihilationism itself. When does error become heresy? At what point does a mistaken interpretation of Scripture place a person—a pastor, leader, or layperson—outside the bounds of Christian orthodoxy? It seems to me that these are critically important questions. Though I am not an annihilationist, I know believers who are. They live near to the Lord, they love His Word, and they are determined to keep their consciences c...

I often hear Christian leaders define love as if it were little more than a decision. We are reminded that Jesus said, “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15), and so we are told that love is obedience. Love, in other words, is keeping His commandments. It is what we do, not how we feel. These days we are often reminded that love is not niceness. On the contrary, it is said that genuine love doesn’t care what people think. It cares only about upholding God’s standard. I can understand the impulse to say such things, especially in an age that often appears marked by soft sentimentalism and virtue signalling. But this is not how the Bible defines love, nor is it how our forefathers understood it. Biblically speaking, love is what constrains us to obey. It is not merely what we do ; it is why we do it. Consider the Pharisees. They were doers. They were often exact in their obedience. Yet Jesus said our righteousness must exceed theirs (Matthew 5:20). Why? Because for all the...