Characteristics of the Neo-Reformed Community

About three years ago, the church where my wife was working graciously decided to rent their auditorium to another church. From the outset, one of the glaring differences was that this other church was complementarian, and the church employing her was egalitarian. But her church had always held — rightly or wrongly — to an 11:00 AM start time, and the other church was willing to meet at 8:55. So the relationship began.

I should also add that both of the churches use the term “Baptist” in their name, or did until the other church underwent a name change a few weeks ago. (To make matters worse, another church sprang up in our small town which also used the same appellation, with a doctrinal perspective entirely unique from the other two.) The other church would be part of the Neo Reformed movement which, I would argue, owes much of its growth to the internet, and really took root in the mid-2000s, but also includes some churches, leaders, authors and key organizations which existed prior.

For our family — as for many readers here — the differences were quite clear, but for others in our town there was confusion between the two. The differences were many, and wasn’t the usual Calvinism vs. Arminianism discussion. (I settled that, eloquently, in this post.) It went beyond that, and often sprang from a great degree of arrogance from those in this new sect.  I realized I had never written down all the various topics that came up during dinner at our house, so earlier this week I grabbed a page in my notebook and started making a list.

I wanted to get past the superficial. Everyone knows the Neo Reformed movement has a crush on the English Standard Version (ESV) and prefers the modern hymns of The Gettys, City Alight, etc. to things from Bethel or Elevation; but those are hardly doctrinal distinctives; rather they form part of the vibe which further defines (or isolates) them from the rest of Evangelicalism.

The Neo Reformed people also have a love of words. I don’t mean individual words, like their love affair with the word “Gospel,” but rather publishing and (at the outset) blogging in general. Just look at the pile of books which are given away each year at the Together for the Gospel (T4G) conference, or the proliferation of books published by Crossway (one of their favorite publishers) and you get the idea. Or check the rate at which local church pastors re-post everything that appears on the Desiring God website.

There could be different reasons for this. I often asked people, ‘Why don’t Salvation Army leaders have blogs?’ My answer was, ‘While everyone else is writing about theology, they’re out in the streets doing theology.’ Perhaps I exaggerated. Perhaps not.

But with all that as introduction, let’s jump in to the actual meat of this discussion and look at some differences.

Chosen/election vs. free will

So first, let’s get a few of the Calvinist distinctions out of the way. There are better articles on this elsewhere, so I’ll leave that with you. Basically, the doctrine of election means that salvation outcomes for every one of us were predetermined before time. In the stronger, double predestination view, the implication is that God created some people for the purpose of destruction. Some people in the movement share that view as well.

Limited vs. unlimited atonement

Did Christ’s sacrifice cover the sin(s) of the entire world, or just the ones who ultimately become one of the chosen? This one is really significant for many and takes up two points in the TULIP acronym, so I felt it should here as well. When asked about this a few days ago, I pointed out that the question of free will is about the individual, while the nature of the atonement — see below — is more about God’s side of the equation.

Hierarchicalist vs. mutalist

This is the question of women in ministry. Can a woman be an elder or deacon? Can a woman be a pastor? Here I am using some excellent alternatives to complementarian and egalitarian which I heard recently in a series of lectures that Tyler Staton did at Bridgetown Church in Portland. (They had never had a formal policy on this and were working on solidifying their position. These are worth tracking down at YouTube; use his name plus the word ‘lecture.’) This is a good a place as any to remind you that this movement is distinct from the classic Reformed movement, or what is sometimes called the Dutch Reformed movement. As an example the CRC church where we live has a woman pastor.

Cessationist vs. Continuationist

To me cessationism seems to be a reverse-engineering of a desire to distance oneself from the charismatic spiritual gifts, especially when the point of cessation is randomly tagged as the end of the apostolic age or the finalization of the canon of scripture. For the record, if someone is sick, and prayer for healing is desired, I would think you want that prayer to be made by someone who believes that God is still in the business of healing. I really think that much of this is part of a larger issue which I would call pneumaphobia or a fear of the Holy Spirit. (Look it up!)

“The Bible Says” vs. “What is the Way of Jesus?”

There simply isn’t a chapter and verse for every subject that arises in the Christian’s journey. Some parts of our spiritual formation simply have to be ‘worked out with fear and trembling.’ And sometimes the fear and trembling isn’t even necessary, the WWJD question is sufficient. The Wesleyan Quadrilateral is helpful here, the idea that  we can learn from reason, tradition, experience and scripture; but the Neo Reformed movement holds to a very literal meaning of Sola Scriptura meaning “the Word of God alone.” (Though all sides of the quadrilateral appear equal when it’s illustrated, the other three must be in agreement with scripture.)

Outward conformity vs. spiritual disciplines

In the Neo Reformed movement you’re more likely to see an emphasis in program participation and the repetition of the party line on various subjects. Holding a unique individual perspective, dressing differently, voting for a different candidate, etc. can leave one ostracized by the group. In contrast, the practice of spiritual disciplines is often unseen, the product of an inner life which is between the believer and God.

Plain reading vs. higher criticism

Making a huge generalization here, but I see the Neo Reformed community leaning towards a plain reading of scripture, but willing to engage in textual criticism where it suits an apologetic for some of their unique positions. Doing the word study, studying the context, and involving comparative passages are always helpful. In balance though, we have to remember that the problem with trying to figure out how a cat works by dissecting it is that you’ll get your answers, but the cat will be dead. Having said that, deeper textual analysis gets us where we need to be when the so-called literal reading is insufficient.

The wrath of God vs. the love of God

You’re simply more likely to encounter the God of wrath in the Neo Reformed community, but that doesn’t mean that those outside the community get a pass on sin and judgement. This isn’t your usual “God of the Old Testament versus God of the New Testament” dichotomy, but the Neo Reformed movement easily develops the picture of the wrathful God from New Testament texts, especially Romans. Which leads naturally to the next item.

Eternal security vs. holiness

I’ve chosen to tag the holiness aspect of Arminianism as eternal security’s opposite for the same reason a conservative driver, seeing a highway speed sign doesn’t bother to check their speedometer because they know they’re driving legally. In a similar way, for most the idea of losing one’s salvation just isn’t at all a personal concern. The lyric “Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Prone to leave the God I love;” makes no sense to the person who is abiding in Christ. But while the Neo Reformed people emphasize God’s wrath, make no mistake that many outside that movement believe that you can indeed choose to walk away. (You had free will before, and you keep free will after.)

Penal substitutionary atonement vs. other atonement theories

While the cross meets our sin problem, many believe there is much more taking place on Calvary and invoke multiple atonement theories, or lean in to a particular one of a list that includes: Passover model, ransom model, scapegoat model, moral exemplar, Christus Victor model, covenants-focused model, and others. (Some of these have similarities and other names.) The Neo-Reformed movement stresses PSA over and above all others.

Dispensationalism vs. Covenant Theology

Honestly, this one is over my pay grade, but in Neo Reformed circles, dispensationalism is the default solution to understanding God’s dealings with us today versus his dealings with other people at other times. That said, I’m not sure that I agree with writers online who see Covenant theology as dispensationalism’s true opposite. I think another word is needed here.

Doctrinal certainty vs. the realm of mystery

Sometimes the best answer we can give people is ‘I don’t know;’ or ‘We don’t know.’ Anglicans and Roman Catholics have a better understanding of mystery than Evangelicals, but in Neo Reformed circles there is little allowance for it at all.

Defended sovereignty vs. unthreatened sovereignty of God

This came up in a discussion of “open theology” and would appear in other unusual theological takes where there would be instant outcry that such doctrines undermine the sovereignty of God. Outside of the Neo Reformed movement, there is never a worry that the idea of God’s sovereignty is not able to withstand any challenges. Even though most Evangelicals don’t agree with open theology, God’s sovereignty is a basic aspect of his nature that isn’t threatened by such propositions and as such is easily accommodated.

“Watch dogs” vs. “Guide dogs”

In the Neo Reformed movement you are more likely to see individuals or organizations gravitate to the role of what are called discernment ministries. (Even though discernment is one of the nine charismatic gifts mentioned earlier.) There is a rather enormous propensity in the movement to be calling out those with whom it disagrees, which at one time or another, includes everybody else. These attacks on other Evangelicals are usually not done in a gracious or charitable spirit. Better to be training guide dogs than raising watch dogs.

Just war vs. heavenly citizenship

I wanted to avoid the Anabaptist use of “pacifism” here, and also avoid stereotypes about gun ownership, since that is almost entirely an American phenomenon. But the Neo Reformer is more likely to engage in civic or federal causes whereas those outside the movement, while also willing to speak or serve in the public square, don’t see the urgency of so engaging. The next section is a good example.

“Seven Mountains” vs. “In…but not of the world”

This is a fairly new distinction, but in many conservative circles, as well as in the Neo Reformed movement (and there can be overlap here) the “seven mountains” phrase refers to exerting greater control over society by placing their members in key positions in governance affecting family, religion, education, media, entertainment, business, and government. While maintaining a voice in these areas is important — see previous section as well — there isn’t the same obsession with other Evangelicals.

…So there you have a rather rushed catalog of the various differences found in two different churches in the same city which, coincidentally, both had ‘Baptist’ in their names.

When it Seems Like God’s on ‘Silent’

A review of God on Mute: Engaging the Silence of Unanswered Prayer by Pete Greig (Zondervan).

I’m still blessed with being able to request books from time to time, but with this one, I made it clear that I might not do a review. This book, on unanswered prayer, was for me; something personal I needed to read right now.

Also, it’s an older book, at least in book review terms, published way back in 2020. Almost ancient. But one author leads to another — if you allow that to take place — and so just as through John Mark Comer we were introduced to Tyler Station, so with Tyler we’ve been introduced to Pete Greig.

Pete is the founder of the 24/7 Prayer Network (24-7prayer.com) defined as, “an international, interdenominational movement of prayer, mission and justice; a non-stop prayer meeting that has continued for every minute of this century so far, in over half the countries on Earth.” It’s based in the UK, and Tyler is the head of the U.S. branch. To talk about 24/7 would be an article in itself, but you can learn more at the link above, or you fully immerse yourself by downloading the Lectio 365 app for your phone.

But we’re getting off course here; back to the book.

God On Mute was originally written in 2007, and what I’m holding in my hand as I type this — which makes for some tricky keyboarding — is actually an updated edition.

The book operates on three levels.

First, the birth of the book is somewhat personal, as Pete’s wife Sammy has suffered with a chronic condition for decades now, which involves seizures, although she is doing better now than when the first edition was written. It’s so much more meaningful when the author can empathize with their readers.

Second, the book uses Holy Week as a motif for our journeys through the times God seems silent. Reading the chapter on Holy Saturday on the day it was actually Holy Saturday made this especially poignant for me.

Third, the book is a teaching on a subject that we all will need from time to time. I got the sense that instead of of just listing principles and steps — although the book does that in places — the author comes alongside those who are grieving the situations where God seems absent. In this book at least, I found a sympathetic voice on what can be a sensitive topic.

There’s also a substantial guided prayer section at the back which I am still reading, but it is very similar in style and pacing to what one finds on the Lectio app.

Finishing the book a few days ago, the status of my prayers is unchanged, but I feel I have a bigger picture. I also did something I’ve never done before with any book, and as I was reading I created an index inside the front cover of some anecdotes and quotations to which I might want to return.

Learn more at Zondervan.com.

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My review of Tyler’s book, Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools is directly related, and to read that you may click here.

Thanks once again to Mark at HarperCollins Christian Publishing Canada for this great resource.

 

A Worship Song I Can’t Edit!

I’ve never been a fan of long worship songs. I know what it means to ‘lose yourself’ in a worship moment, but when ‘soaking songs’ started to become in vogue, I found the ADHD in me kicking in around the 5½ minute mark.

But then there’s this one.

I think that The Same God by Elevation Worship is a worship song we need in these times. This is the lyric version which clocks in at just over 8 minutes. You’ll find other versions online which run 11½ minutes.

Like the 11th chapter of Hebrews, it offers a catalog of people and events which serve as reminders of where God met people where they are.

And honestly, I can’t think of anything much I would want to take out to shorten this to the four-to-five minutes that many — especially non-Pentecostals or non-Charismatics — prefer.

So here’s my suggestion: If you don’t know this song, take the time now to just rest with it and let it speak to you. 

He is the same God today as he has been before.

A Compelling Case for Christianity

The book we’re highlighting today is special to me because I’ve known the author, Clarke Dixon for a decade, and had read the material when it first appeared as part of his blog, now called Thinking Through Scripture and later re-blogged on our own Christianity 201 page, where, when not on sabbatical, Clarke is our regular Thursday devotional writer. He is a pastor in Ontario, Canada.

Beautiful and Believable: The Reason for My Hope is especially directed towards those who might be sitting on the fence regarding Christianity, or doubting its core claims, or having specific objections.

From the introduction:

The picture of the diving board on the cover was taken by one of my sons where we vacation. My sons have taken the plunge from this board many times. Me, not so much. I can understand reticence. However, despite my caution, there are good reasons to dive in from this board. The water is deep. There are no sharks. Jumping in can be great fun. Or so I am told. I tend to be a skeptical person.

There are many reasons people share for being skeptical of the claims of Christianity. In this short book I would like to introduce you to some reasons that we can lay aside our doubts and fears and take the plunge into a life of faith. It is beautiful. It is believable. And it can be great fun.

This book is presented in two parts. The first part gives reasons to believe in God and trust in Jesus based on the beauty of Christianity. The water is refreshing on a hot summer day. Jumping in is a beautiful experience. Christianity, when expressed well, leads to greater beauty in one’s life, and indeed the world.

The second part gives reasons to believe in God and trust in Jesus despite the warnings of the people who say it is foolish to do so. According to the evidence, the water is deep, there are no sharks. Faith is not a blind leap, but a reasonable step.

If you are skeptical, I understand. However, I invite you to discover how Christianity is both beautiful and believable. I invite you to join me on the diving board, maybe we might even take a step . . .

The chapters are short — this is a great title to give to a guy, since some men have trouble staying on track while reading — and Beautiful and Believable is printed in a very clear, readable font.

Your local bookseller in Canada and the U.S. can order through Ingram, using ISBN 9798836457112 for the print edition, or of course, the usual (!) online source for books for both book and eBook, or from Apple Books; currently the print MSRP has been set generously low for the 142 page paperback.

John Mark Comer on Culture Non-Conformity

The phrase has grown antiquated.

The seven-letter phrase was standard in Evangelical preaching in the mid-20th Century: “The world, the flesh, and the devil.” It was the stuff of spiritual warfare seminars, revival meetings and Pentecostal preaching. And then, like some other words and phrases, it became outmoded.

That is, until Live No Lies: Recognize and Resist the Three Enemies That Sabotage Your Peace by John Mark Comer (Waterbrook, 2021), though this time around, the order is reversed and Comer considers “the devil, the flesh and the world,” and in ways the seminar leader, revival leader and Pentecostal preacher of days gone by might not recognize.

Like his previous work, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, John Mark Comer is all about awakening people to recognize the ways in which they have become conformed to popular culture. Or trapped by it. Or enslaved to it. As much as I wanted to review that book when it released, as a regular listener to online sermons at Bridgetown Church in Portland where, until recently, Comer was lead pastor, I’ve heard much of the sermon material which gave birth to both books and the link between them is so strong, I can’t help think there’s got to a third book to complete the trilogy.

But Comer’s methodology is always somewhat subversive. What if you, while taking a firm stand against popular culture and the hold it has on people, were to quote the culture’s own poets, authors, playwrights, and spokespeople? It’s not a new idea, Jesus and Paul walked that road before, and unless you’re extremely conversant on things written by academics, trend-spotters and cultural analysts, you’re going to indirectly hear from voices which are new to you.

But what if you don’t believe in the devil?

Comer is very charitable toward readers who are in a different space. He’s created a book that you could hand to that non-church-attending neighbour or coworker or relative and say, ‘Check this out and tell me what you think.’ The use of the aforementioned ‘secular’ pundits and experts helps facilitate that type of book-giving. The Bible is also generously applied to the discussion, but the book’s primary text is devoid of chapter and verse scripture references which can only be found in the endnotes. There are also quotations from Christian writers ranging from the Desert Fathers to Comer’s mentors and contemporaries.

In calling us to resist the pressures of the dominant culture, Comer seems to include both an individual and corporate response. In other words, a mixture of ‘What can I do?’ and ‘What can my Christian community do?’ in observing and reacting to the world in which we live.

For the ADHD readers among us, each of the three sections contains a two-page recap with key points on how we fight and overcome the devil, the flesh and the world in this cultural moment.

Live No Lies is not however a spiritual warfare manual in the sense of other books you’ve read before. It’s more of a manifesto, seeking to challenge and inspire readers to build a different type of kingdom.

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Thanks to Martin Smith at Parasource (distributor of Waterbrook Press titles to the Canadian Christian bookstore market) for an opportunity to finally get my hands on a book I was dying to read!

The Philip Yancey I Never Knew

This was not the book I was expecting. It was also the book I almost set aside without finishing. Where the Light Fell: A Memoir (Convergent Books, 2021) is the sometimes gut-wrenching story of the early life of one of today’s most popular Christian authors. It is not a pretty story.

Raised in an ultra-conservative Bible Belt family by a single mother, it’s a story of hardship on every level. Having read nearly half of Yancey’s two dozen books, I thought I knew some of the backstory, but nothing prepared for me for these revelations.

After reading the first forty pages just before turning out the lights for the evening, I set the book down and that night, sleep just didn’t come. It would be a week before I would pick up my copy and continue, and with some of the worst of the timeline behind me, I more eagerly continued to the end.

But the end was not what I expected. I knew of Yancey’s work with Campus Life magazine and co-editing The Student Bible, and co-authoring three books with leprosy doctor Paul Brand. But only two of those three surface for a fleeting mention toward the end. The focus here is on earlier times; younger days.

I’m sure he would agree with me that the memoir is a story of family dynamics, and from the outset it appears that the mother-son relationship will dominate. However, in later chapters — and this isn’t really a spoiler — it becomes more about the relationship with his brother Marshall Yancey, and the contrast between two boys who share so many things in common at the beginning, and then arriving at entirely opposite places. In a different world, it might be Marshall’s autobiography people were reading.

Over the years I’ve introduced dozens of people to the writing of Philip Yancey. If pressed, I often say that the draw for me is that as journalist and not a pastor, I am struck by the way he wrestles with scripture and theology.

Now I understand why. I understand why it’s necessary, why it’s imperative for him to fully work out anything he’s going espouse in print. He places a high value on raw honesty and transparency. He’s not always interested in providing the right answers as he is in the process it takes to arrive there. Only then will the answers suffice.

Living one country removed from the U.S., there’s so much of the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s America that never touched my own experience. Still, our family’s yearly car trips to Florida meant driving through the southern states, and particularly in the years before the interstate highway system was completed, there were snapshots in the book — especially those portraying extreme poverty — that brought flashbacks to things I’d seen from the backseat of my parents’ car.

The guest speakers at Yancey’s summer camp were not entirely unfamiliar names, and the names of the Christian magazines his mother subscribed to also resonated. But my contact was fleeting whereas he was immersed in that milieu, and it had repercussions on every choice with which he was confronted and how he and his brother saw the world.

For those for whom this is a foreign experience, the book is a necessary tool for processing Evangelical history in the post-war, mid-20th century. No wonder that on book tours, he had said, “I truly believe this is the one book I was put on earth to write.”

It was on such a book tour years ago that I got to meet my favorite writer. I shook his hand and thanked him for all that his books have meant. He had just released What Good Is God? and the publicist had handed me a complimentary copy and I waited until all the purchasers of the book had left and then asked him if he would autograph mine. Being last in line, if I had known things about him that I now know, I might have extended our conversation by a few extra minutes discussing the Christian world which I got to see from a bit of a distance, and that he lived in every waking moment.

I also find now, I’m longing for a part two. How that upbringing shaped those experiences working for a mainstream Evangelical magazine like Campus Life or a publisher like Zondervan, with whom his books were released. Perhaps part two consists of re-reading some of those classics — What’s So Amazing About Grace, or The Jesus I Never Knew or even Soul Survivor — through the lens of what’s been revealed here in Where the Light Fell.

For those familiar with Philip Yancey’s previous works, this is a must-read. For those who have completed other recent books which deal with the history of Evangelical Protestantism in the United States in the past century, again a must-read.

Just be prepared to recognize this as the story not just of one person, but of a mother and two sons, because that’s the essence of what you’ll find.

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Thanks to Martin Smith of Parasource, Canadian distributor for Convergent for providing a chance to read this when I’d given up hope of getting a review copy!

Rachel Held Evans’ Wholehearted Faith

There might have been moments as you’ve read this pages when you’ve felt frustration and even despair, because it has seemed as if I am asking you to do more, try something different, think in a way you’ve never thought before… (pp 173-4)

Fifty years from now, all things being equal, I can envision a world where the words of Rachel Held Evans are being studied, long after the works of many of today’s popular authors are no longer considered. In the face of criticism for her approach to Christian belief, she was always gracious, and to those for whom her writing fully resonated, it was as though she sparked an entire movement.

Wholehearted Faith (HarperOne, 2021, no subtitle) is in part the next book Rachel Held Evans was working on before her untimely death in 2019, and excerpts from her blog posts. That being said, I was expecting a rather disjointed collection of chapters, but honestly I have to confess I didn’t know where the book manuscript ended and the other material began. Her writing is just … so her.

Some of that continuity is owing to longtime friend Jeff Chu, also pictured, who assembled the final manuscript.

Sometimes in reviewing a book, unless you make notes, your final impressions are tied to later chapters, not unlike the situation where your most vivid memories of a loved one are those final days of old age and not the vitality of their youth. That’s how I was impacted when, toward the end of the book (pp 163-6) there is a detailed description of Rachel taking the hate mail she received electronically, printing out the worst of it, and then folding those printed pages into origami “swans and then sailboats, flowers and then foxes.”

You have to either laugh or cry as you read that.

Earlier in the chapter (p 159) she remembers her own words posted to Twitter on hearing of the death of Osama bin Laden; “Trying to keep in mind that how I respond to the death of my enemies says as much about me as it does about my enemies.” Forget the adage about lemons and lemonade; when the world seems full of hate, you make paper “birds and ships, flowers and kites.”

But why would anyone send Rachel hate mail?

I suppose there is simply something unsettling about someone who challenges our conventional lenses for looking at spiritual life; who states truths without falling back on the familiar words and phrases that have become clichés.

Or if they openly wrestle with doubts and misgivings.

…Most people live with some uncertainty in life, even with — especially with — complex religious and moral questions. Indeed, as I began writing about my experiences on my blog and in my books, a whole community of kindred spirits emerged. Many of them felt as lonely in their questioning as I at times have. They expressed through their letters, emails, and social media posts the affirmation that every spiritual wanderer and religious misfit deeply craves — that I was not alone in this. (p 37)

Later she writes that

…certainty isn’t faith. And faith is marked by the humility to let yourself question — which is not a shortcoming but an acknowledgement of one’s humanity. (p 56)

And that simply, is where some of the hate mail possibly originated. Many people in our churches simply crave a doctrinal system of belief that dots every ‘i’ and crosses every ‘t’ and ties a bow together on top. A faith that leaves no room for mystery; that doesn’t allow that, as Paul said in his famous ‘love chapter,’ presently “we see in part.”

But Rachel knew that need for theological tidiness all too well from personal experience.

This system was comforting in the way that math can be comforting, or the perfect creases, or a row of books neatly arranged. The quintessence of Enlightenment rationalism, the system had its own tidy, self-reinforcing, seemingly airtight and therefore undoubtedly divinely inspired logic. (p 70)

This up-ending of the theological apple cart will definitely produce some unfriendly mail, but the consideration of other possibilities is also what drew a greater number of people to Rachel’s writing and later conferences she helped organize.

She then modeled for her readers a more grace-filled approach to responding to the people who are theologically different.

After Christ’s departure, the first apostles allowed themselves to be changed by the goodness they encountered in the world. When law-abiding, kosher-eating, Roman -hating Peter encountered a centurion who feared God and gave to the poor, Peter, to his own astonishment, said, “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right.” Then Peter even went so far as to share a meal, as Jesus might have, with his new friend. “You are well aware that it is against are law for a Jew to associate with or visit a Gentile,” he said to Cornelius. “But God has shown me that I should not call anyone impure or unclean.” (p 115)

As Jesus might have. Indeed.

If Peter had been closed to such God-shaped possibilities, we wouldn’t have Acts chapter 10. Early on in the book she allows for the possibility of cultivating a faith which occasionally, like the GPS on your car when you’ve turned two blocks too soon simply says, “Recalculating.” Those are my words, but I think Rachel would concur. Her description is,

…But like so many things, faith is best held with an open hand, nurtured by both boundaries and improvisation, tradition and innovation. What a gift my parents gave my sister and me in their blessing of holy exploration. (p 38)

concluding that

…as she [Anne Lamott] had chronicled the meanderings of the heart as well as anyone, and as she famously puts it, “The opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty.”

When I read that I found it reassuring. If uncertainty is a marker of faith, then I must be pretty darn faithful… (p 40)

She adds,

I believe not in spite of all my questions but because of them. I believe not in spite of all the theological points that I undoubtedly have gotten wrong — and the ones I’ve gotten right — but because of them. I believe not in spite of my sins but because of them, just as I am — and just as all those saints and sinners who came before me. (p 47)

This is a long review, and I’ve excerpted far more quotations than reviewers are usually permitted, but I wanted you to get of taste of why Rachel’s words are so enduring and so transformational for so many. She’s all-in. Wholeheartedly.

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Thanks again to Mark at HarperCollins Christian Publications Canada (HCCP) for the opportunity to read and own a copy of Wholehearted Faith.

 

Review: Searching for Enough by Tyler Staton

Thomas didn’t really show up until page 149.

Despite being tipped off on page 10 as to the overall direction of the book Searching for Enough: The High-Wire Walk Between Doubt and Faith, I was expecting him earlier because the apostle Thomas is the centerpiece of Tyler Staton’s signature sermon.

I’ve heard him preach it all the way through twice, and almost three times to different audiences, and I’ve continued to be captivated by his teaching style. I was introduced to him though Bridgetown, on a Sunday that John Mark Comer was away, and tracked down some sermons to Oaks Church Brooklyn in the heart of New York.

If you preach at Bridgetown it means you’ve done your homework. The teaching part of the service runs the better part of an hour, and during that time you’d better have something to say, including the necessary research and an equal balance of references to things academic and scholarly, and the stuff of everyday life.

In the past few weeks, Tyler Staton formally took the teaching reins at Bridgetown, moving his family from one side of the country to another, as John Mark Comer moves on to some new projects.

At the time the book was completed New York City was very much in his blood. That city is a mix of all types of people, each carrying all manner of stories and so is Tyler. He has no problem finding connection points with his audience through references to the basic challenges of life; the challenges we face in our search for enough.

John Mark wrote the foreword to Searching for Enough, including the advice to read slowly. At this point I’m thankful to have finished the book — and the review — in the same year the book was written. There’s a lot of rich content here, and as I considered some brief words here, I found myself back at the beginning and drawn into the story all over again.

This is very much a look at the life of Jesus, and especially the final week — what we call the passion week — when “all four accounts slow way down;” and merge, falling into “perfect harmony with one another, suddenly documenting each precise detail when they had been a sweeping survey up to that point.”

And then, post-resurrection, Thomas, aka Didymus (the twin) comes into view. The book dares us to see Thomas as our twin, and recognize that his doubts are not that far from removed from where we often find ourselves; along with anecdotes from the lives of people similar to us, and those who walk a very different road.

Searching for Enough passes my personal litmus test for what a book on the Christian life should be. It’s one I would recommend reading, but is especially good when paired with some background familiarity with Tyler’s teaching style as found on video at YouTube, Oaks Church and Bridgetown.

Available in paperback from Zondervan wherever you buy quality books. Thanks to Mark H. at HarperCollins Christian Products.

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Read an excerpt from Searching for Enough at this link.

Change: Resisting vs. Embracing

A right time to embrace and another to part,
A right time to search and another to count your losses,
A right time to hold on and another to let go,
A right time to rip out and another to mend…
Ecclesiastes 3:2-8 – The Voice Bible (selected)

A time to scatter stones, a time to pile them up;
a time for a warm embrace, a time for keeping your distance;
A time to search, a time to give up as lost;
a time to keep, a time to throw out;
A time to tear apart, a time to bind together
Ecclesiastes 3:2-9 – The Message (selected)

I am creating something new.
There it is! Do you see it?
I have put roads in deserts,
streams in thirsty lands.
Isaiah 43:19 – CEV

I think it was Skye Jethani who I first heard use the phrase, “The Myth of Continuity.” The meanings I just looked up are above my pay grade, but I believe he was referring to the more common state of believing that things will always continue just as they are. This can be true in both a micro and macro sense.

In my lifetime, I’ve known people who seem to thrive on change. Perhaps you know them also. People who have had several quite different careers. People who have lived in very distant cities. People who can re-invent themselves at the drop of a hat to adapt to new challenges and new situations.

Then there are those who are happy for each day to be somewhat the same; somewhat predictable. They take the line in the poem attributed to James Francis Allen, “One Solitary Life” which says that Jesus “never traveled more than 200 miles from the place he was born” as prescriptive, as a model for life.

In Greek culture there were four different concepts of love. Growing up in the church I heard many sermons that helped me remember philia (the love we have for a brother and maybe the hobby or activity about which we are most passionate); eros (the sexual love that the kids in the youth group were told to save for marriage); and agape (the unselfish love which when lived out places others above ourselves.) But I heard rather varied definitions of storge.

Storge (stor•gee) is described in the things I’m reading as I type this as a love between parents and children, but although the usage isn’t common, I was taught it can also mean the love of things familiar. And we all see that. The familiar, the routines, the rituals, the personal traditions. It’s that feeling you get when you attend the family reunion each year, or that particular sequence of events on Christmas Eve that start with the eggnog — that’s strange, I seem to have set my glass down somewhere and now I can’t remember where — to the reading of Christ’s birth narrative and the opening of gifts.

The enemy of storge when used in that sense would seem to be change and disruption. The Holmes-Rahe Life Stress Inventory takes the events one might encounter in a lifetime and gives them a stress rating from 11 (receiving a minor traffic ticket) to 100 (the death of one’s spouse.) Even seemingly positive events like an outstanding personal achievement (25 points) or taking out a loan to purchase a new car (17 points) or the birth or adoption of a new family member (39 points); each of these can be stressful in their own way.

Personally, while (for example) I love to travel, I don’t think that overall I relate to change well. Especially the unexpected kind. Or the changes that bring with it an entry into the unknown. I want to be in control.

My first roller coaster ride in my life was Space Mountain at Disney on a day that they were doing a fuller “lights out” ride through the darkness than what they provide today. (I should also add that nobody told me ahead that it was a roller coaster.) I don’t care if the coaster jerks or drops but I want to be sitting so I can see the track or see the car ahead. I want a road map. I want a copy of the program for the play.

Changes are inevitable, however. Heraclitus (you remember him, right?) said that “The only constant in life is change;” and commenting on this Plato added, “Heraclitus, I believe, says that all things pass and nothing stays, and comparing existing things to the flow of a river, he says you could not step twice into the same river.”

On our trips to Cuba, the tour guides will often remind the Canadians and the Europeans that Cuba doesn’t have the seasons we know: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. Rather they have the “regular” season interrupted by the “rainy” season and “hurricane” season. When I was in California the first time, it was strange to see the Christmas decorations being placed without the atmospheric and meteorological markers I associated with them.

But at least Cuba has some variance. I do suspect there are parts of equatorial Africa where every day is truly the same. Still, people who have moved to these type of climates will tell you that after a certain number of years, they began to miss winter; they began to yearn for some snow, not in the storge sense, but in terms of needing the escape from the sameness; from the too easily predictable.

Sometimes we need things that get our adrenaline going, and while the stimulus may not be positive at the outset, much depends how we challenge that energy; how we choose to dissipate the stress.

Which brings us back to the concept of seasons. In the Evangelical milieu in which I find myself, seasons of life is a phrase often repeated. Something ends, and the conclusion is that “it was for a season.”

The question is, do we embrace such changes of season or do we resist? I think our personality types (God-given personality types, I should add) determine that outcome. 

From Christianity 201:

If God uses seasons to prepare us, then I believe that you can be fruitful no matter what the season is in your life. You can glean from each season of your life things that will grow you and produce fruit for the future. You may be looking at your life right now and see a desert wasteland, but Isaiah 43:19 says that God is about to do something new. He’ll make rivers in the desert so that you can produce fruit and grow. No matter how dark life gets or how abundant your blessings are, God has a design and a purpose to grow you through this season.
– Chris Hendrix

From an older article here:

You can’t go back and re-live seasons gone but you can learn from them. You really don’t want to fast forward to future seasons because when the ones you are in are gone, like flowers when they have flourished, they are gone for good. The key for us all today is to carpe (seize) the one you’re in! So choose today to learn from seasons gone, love the one you’re in and, with faith and expectancy, have excitement concerning the ones yet to come that are promised by your God. Every season has something for you so make sure you harvest it out!
– Andy Elmes

If we really believe that God is moving us on to the next stage of life, we’ll thrive on the challenge, even with its short-term pain. If we’re really trusting Him, we’ll see where the next chapter takes us.

Today’s blog post is dedicated to … well, you know who you are.

Dan Kimball Tackles The Bible-Reading Elephants in the Room

Review: How (Not) to Read the Bible by Dan Kimball

I hope you’ve had the opportunity to take a friend to your church and had that moment where, seeing everything through your friend’s eyes, you suddenly see everything that is happening in that space through an entirely different lens.

It’s the same with reading the Bible. We pick it up every day and are often quick to skip over potentially troublesome passages because we know the bigger story, we know the outcome, and we know the divine author. But your friends get tripped up in the first few chapters and then, human nature being what it is, are quick to write off the book completely.

Dan Kimball’s newest book How (Not) to Read the Bible: Making Sense of the Anti-Women, Anti-Science, Pro-Violence, Pro-Slavery and other Crazy-Sounding Parts of Scripture (Zondervan, 2020; and winner of the ‘World’s Longest Subtitle’ award) is an attempt to confront the elephant in the room; many elephants actually of which he focuses on six:

• unusual and antiquated laws given to Israel
• the relationship in both Old and New Testaments with the practice of slavery
• the role of women in society; in Jewish religious life; in the modern church
• the relationship between the Bible and science; particularly in Genesis
• Christianity’s claim of exclusivity over all other religious viewpoints
• the so-called “texts of terror” and seemingly gratuitous use of violence

One of the striking things about the tone of the book is the degree to which Dan Kimball is at ease discussing such things. He understands the mindset of those not yet part of the family, so to speak, and both addresses them directly, but gives the rest of us greater insight into their way of thinking. This is actually the third book by Kimball I have in my library. The title of one says it all: They Like Jesus but Not the Church, which again reflects how conversant he is with reactions to Christianity in the broader marketplace.

So two potential audiences emerge here: Those needing a seeker-friendly addressing of the problematic passages in scripture, and those wishing to better understand how to engage those discussions. Because of his relaxed writing style, I can also see this being a useful tool for homeschool families, though some might not appreciate his treatment of the seven different models for examining creation.

His treatment of the serpent tempting Eve reveals this as a wordplay, with the original having three possible meanings and the text incorporating all three in different ways. His nod to Christianity at the time of Galileo reminds us that the church hasn’t always been at the forefront of scientific understanding.

There isn’t a bibliography as such, but in the footnotes, we see material was drawn from writers such as Michael Heiser, John Walton, Paul Copan, The Bible Project, and a book I’m now anxious to look at, In the Beginning We Misunderstood.

All this said, the book is rather repetitive at times. While I love Kimball’s ideas and presentation, the editing here seems somewhat lacking. Its 300 pages might easily be cut back to 250, and there are times the book almost plagiarizes itself, such as the sentence on page 142 which is repeated three sentences later on page 143: “Unless Paul is contradicting himself in the same letter, he doesn’t intend for women to never speak a word;” and “Unless Paul is contradicting himself, the verse cannot mean for women to be totally silent.” There is also very frequent mention of Greg Koukl’s “Never read a Bible verse” principle (you should read the whole context) though I recognize that perhaps for Kimball, you can’t state this too many times.

My greatest question reading this was wondering if the arguments presented would be sufficient to allay the objections of non-Christians. Perhaps. Hardcore skeptics? I’m not sure. Perhaps to that end, the book would need to be longer, not shorter. Where Kimball gets full marks is his willingness to confront these issues, and the aforementioned ease with which he navigates each potential stumbling block; a few of which were part of his own personal faith journey.

Better yet, the reader is assured that, ‘I’m not the only one wondering about these passages;’ and offers springboards for further investigation and conversation. A number of additional resources were due to be ready in January to promote additional study by groups or individuals. Learn more at DanKimball.com.