My wife and I joined a small Bible study group, and because of that I’m doing a deep study of the scriptures for the first time in far too long. I’d forgotten just how much I enjoy it and how much you can get out of it. But it takes a lot of time. I can read Colossians in 15 minutes. I can easily spend an hour studying one paragraph. What if there were a way to split the difference? What if we just spent that 15 minutes applying some of the basic principles of Bible study to that paragraph?
I’ve been trying that. The result is seeing more than I’d ever see on a quick read through the passage. It doesn’t deliver the full benefits of a deep study, but it’s so much better than just a surface read. It’s like sitting down to a hot lunch versus a quick vending machine snack.
After some experimentation, I’ve ironed out a method. Now I’m ready to share it, to show you how you can get more out of the Bible in the amount of time you already spend in it.
When studying the Bible, sometimes noticing the smallest detail can open the passage up to you. And sometimes they reveal little gems of truth that are just casually tucked in beside the author’s main point. We hit upon one of those in our small group recently, and I thought it made an excellent meditation for Christmas.
Do you believe in Santa Claus? Of course not. But you kind of act like you do.
You've told your kids about Santa Claus. You've told stories about him. You've sang songs about him. You probably even left him cookies at one time or another.
But kids? They stay up late trying to catch sight of him. They write him letters. They change their behavior because he's watching. They believe in Santa Claus.
God plays the long game. He has plans within plans. He had our salvation planned out before the foundation of the world. As soon as Adam and Eve fell, he began telling us about it. He worked events out over the course of centuries, having Jesus born into a world perfectly shaped so that he would be put to death merely for claiming to be who he is.
We, on the other hand, are terrible at making long-term plans. My weekly meal plan doesn’t even usually survive intact. There’s a place in Mary’s Magnificat that is both a beautiful promise and a warning. It tells us that we need to get better at planning.
“Have you noticed that Christians tend to live in the West, people in the Middle East are Muslim, and people in the Far East are Hindu or Buddhist? Being a Christian is just a matter of where you were born, and if you were born in Iran, you’d be Muslim.”
Have you heard this objection before? The implication (if they don’t flat out say it) is Christianity is just another regional myth, and you simply subscribe to the one that’s local to you. Let’s look at how we can answer this.
Action is character. We all know people who say one thing and do another. Maybe they even do the right things for a while. But eventually the truth comes out. What people end up doing eventually, what they do when things get hard, or what they do when no one is looking, this is what reveals who they really are. One of the hard parts of growing up is learning this truth, usually painfully, and learning to see through the masks.
Amos tells us that God sees through the pretense quite well. Let’s look at one of the most famous passages in the minor prophets.
For many people, the thing that makes Christianity hard to believe is the miracle stories — talking donkeys, burning bushes, and walking dead people.
But for another group of people the hard thing is the people they meet. This can be true for both non-Christians and Christians, and it's the latter that I want to talk about.
Does anyone like disciplining their kids? I could happily have gone my whole life without ever having to do that. Before our first was born, we agreed that we would not punish mistakes but only willful disobedience, only when they knew exactly what they ought to do and refused to do it. And that’s all they did! If you don’t nip that in the bud, you can’t take your kids out in public. Undisciplined children become adults no one wants to be around, not even their cell mates.
We do not punish our children because we enjoy it; we discipline our children for their own good. God also disciplines his people for their good.
I enjoy reading fantasy, but whether it’s high fantasy or urban fantasy, there’s a trope that I find incredibly frustrating: the wizard who won’t tell people what they need to know. Even Gandalf sent poor Frodo to walk to Bree without telling him one tenth of what he knew about the One Ring. Instead, everything is need-to-know until something forces them to share their secrets.
I feel some of that same frustration at times with the Bible. Couldn’t it be, you know, ... clearer? Why do we have to work so hard to make it give up its secrets? Why didn’t God just tell us what we want to know?
Our culture likes to root for the underdog. Our actual track record may be mixed, but in principle, we hate bullies and love people who stand up for the weak. Where do you think we got that?
If you really want insight into someone’s character, find out what makes them angry. Is it being treated disrespectfully? Do they get mad when they’re inconvenienced? Or do they get angry when other people are mistreated?
A very basic description of the prophetic books of the Old Testament is that God tells the prophet to denounce this or that people because of their behavior. However, looking closer at who is being denounced and for what tells us a lot about what makes God angry.
Have you ever noticed that experts can enjoy things far more than normal people?
I’m musically inclined; I can read music, play piano poorly, and enjoy singing. I love good music and good performances. I even enjoy a musical episode of TV shows when they’re done well. The CW show The Flash did such an episode, and it was great. Most of the cast sang beautifully, and the songs were cleverly written. Then I came across a YouTube video of a vocal coach reacting to it, and I realized I was watching that episode deaf and blind.
Does Christianity require a vow of poverty? That is what some allege. Where do they get that idea, and are they correct?
Some find in what has been called the account of the rich young ruler what they deem to be an “11th commandment.”
It’s finally fall, and that means gift giving season is just around the corner. As a follow up to the Lessons from Babylon series, I want to recommend two books that would make good gifts, especially to the young people in our lives who are going to have to make their way in these cultural waters. Or you can gift it to yourself.
This week I offer links to some pieces I think you’ll find helpful, pieces on navigating the times we find ourselves in.
Let’s look at one of the gotcha questions people sometimes throw at Christianity.
Will we have free will in heaven*? I have to say I cannot find a single passage of scripture that speaks to this unequivocally. The answer to this question really seems to stem from what theological camp you belong to.
But let’s say for the sake of argument that the answer is “yes, we will have free will in heaven”.
People will then ask if it will be possible that there could be another rebellion in heaven. Could someone do what Satan did, what Adam and Eve did, and decide to go their own way?
I live in the same town where I grew up. When I was young, I could tell you which way was north anywhere in town and still can. But I was surprised, years later, to find out that ended pretty much at the edge of town. The neighboring towns that I thought were west and east of us are actually almost north and south. The road heads off to the west and east then gradually curves. Before long you’re going a direction you didn’t expect. I only realized this years later when looking at a map.
Turns out it’s not just roads. People who hike off trails tend to go in circles. They think they’re going straight, but their path slowly veers to one side. But there’s a bit of ancient knowledge that can solve this problem. A compass has exactly one purpose: To point to the north. With this seemingly magical device, you can tell when roads (or your feet) curve. As long as you can tell where true north is, you can travel in a straight line.
I got summoned for jury duty. I do not have time for this. Another time it wouldn’t be a big deal, but not now. A lot of people just throw them in the trash, but I can’t do that. I have to honor the law, so I go.
Once there, they accept requests to be excused if you have certain issues. I could claim I have one of those, but I don’t. I can’t do that. So I sit quietly and — heaven help me — wish I were at work.
We live in a generation with a lot of questions, a lot of doubts. There’s a lot of cynicism, especially where religion is concerned. How do we help people answer those questions or soothe those doubts? How do we, like Pascal said, make Christianity attractive so that good people wish it were true?
One thing we can do is become Jude 3 apologists.
We’ve spent the last few months trying to learn from the trials and tribulations of Daniel and the other faithful Jews in Babylon. It’s pretty heavy stuff. When trials come, we’re going to have to take a stand. It won’t be popular, and we’ll find ourselves isolated as we try to serve God in a world that is against everything we stand for. How do we stand strong through that?
For our final Lesson from Babylon, we’ll look at one last recurring theme in Daniel that can help us persevere through the hard times.
What does it mean to be a man today? Something that has never been an easy question to answer is even harder in an age concerned with #metoo, ending patriarchy, and toxic masculinity. Thankfully there have been a lot of good books written on the topic recently. I want to tell you about one that might be off your radar because it isn’t strictly a “Christian” book.
“Will this ever end?” When we’re undergoing God’s discipline — whether it’s punishment for our behavior or boot camp before better things — we may wonder if the trials will last forever. They won’t.
God puts up with a lot from the wicked. The history of Israel shows that God will use the wicked deeds that evil people do to discipline his people. The actions of Assyria and Babylon were sometimes just as bad as, if not worse than, what Israel did. The same may be the case when we are taken to task. When God’s people suffer, they wonder if there will ever be justice for the wrongs inflicted on them.
For our next Lesson from Babylon, we’ll look at how God brought those he used to punish Israel to justice for their own evil.
“The word Trinity isn’t even in the Bible.” Sometimes it amazes me a little that after 1700 years, people still debate the deity of Christ and the Trinity. It should be settled doctrine by now. Yet the arguments go on.
I want to look at the passage that I think most clearly teaches the Trinity. Not the deity of Christ. Not the personhood of the Spirit. The Trinity. The whole shebang.
We talked about the need for Christians to be the best they can be at what they do. That’s always true, but doubly so when living in Babylon. The truth is, though, it’s not going to help us avoid persecution. Our Lord deserves and requires that we serve him by doing our best in everything. Anything less than our best will dishonor the gospel and draw criticism from people who disapprove of us. But being our best may also draw attacks.
As we continue our Lessons from Babylon, we’ll look at how being the best drew targets on Daniel and the other faithful Jews.
CS Lewis reminded us to read the old books along with the new ones. The generations who went before us have a lot to teach us, and it’s not uncommon to come across something that seems like it could have been written today. Such as this:
When I was younger my favorite comics were the X-Men comics. Their mission was to “defend a world that fears and hates them.” Because they were an unpopular minority — “mutants” — the X-Men had to hold themselves to higher standards. They wouldn’t be given the same slack as other heroes. Any mistakes they made would not only affect them but how the public viewed all mutants.
Christians in Babylon will find themselves in a similar situation. Our mission is to save a world that fears and hates us. And any mistakes will not only be given no grace, they will color how everyone who knows you views Christians. For our next Lesson from Babylon, let’s look at how Daniel responded to that situation.
There are many passages that are supposed to be prophecies about Jesus that, when read in their context in the Old Testament, sure don’t seem to be about Jesus. Even the ones that kind of sound like Jesus, how do we know that’s what the prophecy was really about? It’s not just skeptics who ask these questions; believers do, too. It’s the latter I want to address. Skeptics will not be convinced by anything we can say, but to doubting believers we can offer one simple explanation.
What made the apostles think these passages applied to Jesus? Jesus.
No one likes being the bearer of bad news. When everything seems to be going well, bringing bad news is not going to make you popular. When you’re already unpopular, the natural inclination is to just keep your head down and try not to be noticed. You don’t want to stand out. You don’t want to attract attention to yourself. You certainly don’t want to tell people something they don’t want to hear. But sometimes we have to.
For our next Lesson from Babylon, let’s look at the time when Daniel had to bring bad news to a king who was on top of the world.
A common complaint from non-believers and Christians alike is that it’s hard to reconcile the God in the Old Testament who seems so angry, impatient, and unforgiving with the kind, loving, and forgiving Jesus (and by extension his Father) of the New Testament. Our picture of Jesus is of him carrying a lamb on his shoulders; our picture of the OT God is like the Far Side cartoon where his finger is hovering over the “smite” button. How do we explain this personality shift between the testaments? Moreover, what do we do with that angry OT God?
We all love a story where the hero shows up in the nick of time to rescue his beloved from danger. What if he doesn’t though? That story is usually less fun.
One danger of studying the book of Daniel is we may get the idea that God promises to rescue us from any danger. He doesn’t. For our next Lesson from Babylon, we’ll see what the book has to teach us about facing the times when he doesn’t swoop in and save the day.
You’ve heard this before:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
But for most of human history, those truths would have been anything but “self-evident.” Those ideas were actually pretty new, and they were thoroughly Christian, yet today most Westerners hold these values. How did this happen?
We know God sees the heart. He looks beyond our actions to our motives. That means he sees the sin at the heart of our sin, but it also means he knows when we really do mean well. Because of that, when persecution comes, some people will suggest we do whatever it takes to save our skin because God knows our heart. Should we compromise a little, knowing God will know we don’t really mean it?
For our next Lesson from Babylon, let’s explore how Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah answered that question.
Christians claim that the New Testament gospels are historically reliable. One of the ways we defend that is to point out that the stories accord well with history and archeology — that is, the places where things happened really existed, the rulers named really ruled, and the practices described were what you’d find if you visited that place in that time.
Many skeptics claim when we say that we’re committing what they call the Spider-Man fallacy. What is that, and are we guilty of it?
God is in control. Therefore, if you find yourself living in Babylon, you know it is God’s will. God has chosen this for you. God has chosen you for this. Now what will you do?
Jeremiah brought a message from the Lord:
Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jer 29:4-7 ESV)
For our next Lesson from Babylon, let’s look at how Daniel and company lived that out.
We’re an age that likes shortcuts. We want “three simple steps to get rich” and “eating this one vegetable will make you lose weight.” That goes for what passes as discourse in our society, too. We don’t want nuance or careful reasoning. What’s popular is “this one argument will own [the other party]” and “watch this Christian/skeptic destroy skeptics/Christians.”
These titles are clickbait because people want to see things like that. Yes, this afflicts Christians. We find what sounds like a knock-down argument, grab on, and don’t give it another moment of reflection.
The famous trilemma, that Jesus must be “Lord, liar, or lunatic”, popularized by CS Lewis falls prey to that. It has its place, but too many see it as a cure-all, an answer to all skeptics. The reality is that it has its weaknesses and is not appropriate for every situation. I think Lewis, were he still here, would be shaking his head at our misuse of his words.
I messed up. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t make a bad decision so much as put off a good one for a little while. Then a little longer. Then time gets away from you and bad habits set in. Like millions of others, I began to treat church like a weekly event, an hour long show you sit and watch. Like a short dinner theater, without the dinner.
Many today even look for the kind of church experience where they can slip in and back out unnoticed. Maybe this is because that makes it hard for people to say, “We missed you last week.” They want a church where people aren’t all up in their business.
But church is all about having people all up in your business. For our next Lesson from Babylon, we need to look at how Daniel and the other faithful Hebrews benefitted from real community.
Christians have always been musical people. Worship through song is part of our earliest traditions. However I worry that today we put too much emphasis on singing and vastly overestimate how important it is to God. We’re commanded to sing, but we shouldn’t think that’s the only or even highest form of worship.
Singing is the icing on the cake. It’s the gravy on the biscuit. It's good, but by itself, it’s not much. What is the main part of the worship God wants from us?
They say character is what you do when no one is looking, but sometimes the hardest thing is to do what’s right when everyone is looking. It’s easy to go along with the crowd. It’s like riding the current of a river — you really don’t have to put any effort into it at all. What’s hard is going against the crowd, against that current. It takes physical, emotional, and moral effort, and not many people do it.
Daniel and company found themselves having to do just that. So as we continue our Lessons from Babylon, let’s look closer at their experience and see whether that was an oddity or the norm.
When I was a child, I sometimes felt a bit lost in the crowd at home. I was the third of three sons. The first is the one you put all your hopes and dreams on. The second is your backup. The third is the redundant backup, only important if everything else goes south. It was silly, I know, but that’s the way kids think.
Sometimes I feel lost in the crowd of God’s children. Yes, God saved me, but I’m just one of millions, maybe billions. Just one unimpressive face is a sea of faces. One more sinner for his vast collection.
In such times I turn to one of the most amazing passages in the scriptures.
What planet is this? Not that long ago, Christian morals were seen as good and enshrined in law. Today we are increasingly being told that our morals are the problem, that what we believe is not just misguided but backward and harmful. We’re beginning to find ourselves pressed to behave in ways that we see as not only wrong but bizarre and illogical. As Stephen McAlpine put it in Being the Bad Guys, “The cultural, political and legal guns that Christianity once held are now trained on us—and it’s happened quickly.”
We woke up one day and found ourselves in a foreign culture that was pressing us to conform, so it’s worth looking at Biblical characters who experienced a similar problem. For our next Lesson from Babylon, let’s look at when and how our heroes said “no.”
When everything’s going well, we don’t ask too many questions. Why rock the boat? When things aren’t going our way, we ask lots of questions. Why me? How long will this last? Is anybody running this thing? The book of Daniel addresses this last one thoroughly.
As we continue our Lessons from Babylon, recurring themes from the book of Daniel, let’s look at what seems to be the overarching theme of the entire book. Every chapter of Daniel is written to convey one message over all others:
Everything old is new again. Fashion is cyclical, that's why men never throw anything out — they fully expect that leisure suit to come back into style again.
Ideas do the same thing. Especially errors. And so we find ourselves in a place that seems kind of familiar. Many people look at the world today and see parallels to the situation of the faithful Hebrews in Babylon. I think that’s fair, so I intend to mine the book of Daniel for insight into our situation.
This is the beginning of a series of Lessons from Babylon. Rather than digging into an expository study of the book, I intend to highlight some repeated themes or messages we see.
If we normally think of life as a marathon, today’s world makes it feel like a Tough Mudder course — harder, slower, and way dirtier. We’re going to start a series soon on some biblical guidance for navigating this obstacle course, but this week I thought it’d be useful to offer you some other people’s thoughts on the matter.
Is it time to stop talking about objective morality?
I believe objective morality exists. I believe God is the only explanation for objective morality. But skeptics will run you in circles trying to prove that objective morality can exist apart from God or by bringing up the Euthyphro dilemma. Perhaps it’s time we take a page from their playbook and adjust our approach to the issue to disarm or even preempt some of their objections. We can do that by shifting our focus from objective to external morality.
Once upon a time, everybody enslaved everybody else. Anyone could have slaves, and anyone could be a slave. It was inhumane, but it was equal opportunity. This system existed for thousands of years.
Then, a few hundred years ago, somehow the entire world decided one particular group made the ideal slaves. These people were dehumanized, abused, and oppressed for hundreds of years. And the church said nothing about it. When some Christians finally did come to their senses and recognize the horror of this state of affairs, other Christians opposed them, using the word of God to defend grinding these human beings under their heels. Otherwise godly and wise people were somehow completely blind to their sin. They simply couldn’t see it.
The question that haunts me today is, what are we not seeing? Is there something I accept that will cause my grandchildren’s grandchildren to view me with shame? Will future generations look back on our lives and ask, “How could you permit that?”
Why does it matter if there is a God? What difference does it make if Jesus rose from the dead? Why should anyone care that Christianity is true? So what? That’s what a lot of people are asking these days. The new atheists have come and gone; today we need to be able to answer the apatheists.
If you were sharing your faith with someone whose only question was “so what?”, what would you say? We would do well to borrow from an apostle who did exactly that. Paul’s speech in Athens provides a succinct answer to that question, one that can be used for apatheists and also the “spiritual but not religious” and those of other faiths.
A good campfire begins with a spark. That spark creates a small flame. If you work with it, that small flame can be coaxed into a roaring fire that will warm cold bodies and light up the night.
In my latest read-through of the pastoral epistles, a passage in Titus grabbed me by the shoulders and demanded my attention. I can’t say how many times I’ve read it, but this time I was struck by how well it speaks to our generation.
Occasionally we come across an old book that is so relevant and timely it seems like it must have been written last year. Here I will try to tempt you to read one such book.
This year is the 80th anniversary of CS Lewis’ most prophetic book, The Abolition of Man. You can find it on “best books of the 20th Century” lists. Philosopher Peter Kreeft includes it in his “books to read to save Western Civilization.”
This short book consists of three chapters and an appendix, 101 pages before notes. In those three chapters, Lewis examines the problem with moral subjectivism and explores where it would take society. Where it will take society is to today. He described the last sixty years, eighty years ago.
We’ve all been taught the value of “hiding God’s word in your heart” (Ps 119:11), and we know that’s probably true, but it’s hard and time consuming, and I’ve only got so much time in a day.
But what if it’s not that hard and doesn’t consume that much time?
I’ve been trying to convince you of the benefits of memorizing scripture. Today I want to offer some tips I’ve either found through experience or learned elsewhere.
For all the Bible is filled with inspiring and comforting passages, there are places in the scriptures that stop us cold. The imprecatory Psalms, for example, are passages that call down judgment or calamity on their enemies or the enemies of God. We don’t quite know what to do with that.
Meditating on them can help us to make sense of — and peace with — those uncomfortable passages.
