Come Down, Lord!

  I’ve listened with appreciation to Gavin Ortlund’s discussions surrounding doctrinal triage. Like him, I think it is important to distinguish between primary, secondary, and tertiary differences. But I was surprised when I heard him say that human sexuality is a secondary issue. In fact, he clarified by saying that whether a person affirms the traditional view of marriage as between one man and one woman is not a primary issue but a secondary one—important, but not essential. I understand the impulse to limit the list of essentials to things like the doctrine of the Trinity, the virgin birth, the atonement, and salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, for example. But—assuming I have understood him— is he right? If human sexuality is a secondary issue, then it is a difference we can live with , something like baptism. Think about that for a moment. We have Baptist and Presbyterian denominations because the differences between us on baptism—as on other issues—...

Yesterday I learned of another pastor who has been disqualified for moral failure of some kind. I won’t name him or the particulars because I don’t think it is the business of believers to be spreading such stories. This is not to say there is no place for public disagreement or critique. I have, at times, responded publicly to other pastors where I believed they were in error, but that is different from spreading details of personal sin. If announcements need to be made, I believe they should be carefully worded so as to lovingly cover sin and to avoid bringing further reproach upon the name of Jesus—except in cases involving predatory and/or criminal behaviour. But I bring it up because I believe the evangelical Church is often getting this wrong. We say that a pastor is disqualified, and sometimes we add that he is permanently disqualified. But what kinds of sin actually disqualify a pastor? And is there a difference between temporary disqualification and permanent disqualification...

Many of us go through periods of discouragement. Sometimes it’s how we have been treated: what someone said or did, how we were misunderstood or misrepresented. Sometimes it’s an unhappy work environment. Sometimes it’s our walk with God: guilt, shame, and frustration over sin, the feeling that God has turned His face away, or a lack of zeal and joy. Sometimes it’s loss: the loss of a family member or the loss of friendships. Sometimes it’s medical issues: whether physical suffering or grief at what is being lost. The other night—after days of feeling encouraged in the Lord—I went to bed feeling very discouraged. I had reached a new low physically and was thinking about what this meant… or at least what I thought it meant.* It felt as though more was being taken from me, and that the list of things I could no longer do was growing. I prayed and went to sleep. In the night I dreamed of worship, and I woke with the thought, He is risen ( Luke 24:6 )! And that was all I needed. That per...

I originally wrote the following post in August of 2025. For a number of reasons, I decided not to publish it at that time. But just the other day, someone was telling me about a growing movement out of Protestantism into Catholicism (and Eastern Orthodoxy). What I had thought were isolated decisions are apparently part of a broader trend. That there is such a trend is troubling. The thoughts I offer here are very simple. All of it has been said before. Still, I think some of these things are worth repeating. It may be that a growing number of Protestants are becoming disillusioned with Protestantism. Having spoken with some of them, I believe many of their concerns are legitimate—and should be addressed. But the solution is not found in turning to Rome or the East.   -- I recently listened to a four-hour video titled 7 Things Protestants Misunderstand About Christianity that was shared with me. I have already responded privately, but I thought it worth sharing some of my r...

In April of 1993 my grandmother was reflecting on her cancer operation from a year before. She noted that all reports were good, and then she wrote, “I don’t know about tomorrow, I just live from day to day… but I know who holds tomorrow. And I know He holds my hand.” * The next month she passed away. Her death was unexpected and took all of us by surprise. But it wasn’t a surprise to God. This had been the plan all along. And when His work in her was complete and her race finished, He—who had always had her firmly by the hand—gently ushered her into glory. And there she finally grasped what she had previously believed: that death is gain (Philippians 1:21). Faith gave way to sight, and she found herself then—as now—more alive than ever. Over the last few days I’ve been thinking about the words of that old hymn. None of us knows about tomorrow. But we do know Who holds it. We know what He is like. We know He is good and wise and kind. More than that, we know He is love . We know what...

  The other night I was asked by someone—whom I will call Martha—if I really believe that God works all things for good. I said I did. To which she responded, “But I don’t understand how your condition can be for good.” Martha’s not alone. It isn’t just my specific condition. There are a host of possibilities that can seem, at first glance, utterly pointless. Far from doing good, they seem to work for evil. And yet the Bible says, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). It isn’t “many” things, or even “most” things. It’s all things. For the called—for those who love God—all things work together for good. That is God’s promise. For some, this presents a serious philosophical problem. They don’t understand how to reconcile God’s working all things for good with human freedom and even demonic activity. To which I answer, “But with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). I do n...