I really hope this column will bless you. You can read the most recent column below and previous columns at the archive.
I learned very fast not to tell new acquaintances what I do. When I was ordained, people stopped cussing around me and I haven’t heard a dirty joke since. All the sudden, it was like I was a completely different person. All the sudden, it seemed everybody expected that I would have something to say about God or the Bible in every conversation.
With the benefit of retrospect, though, I now realize it wasn’t sudden. After a period of self-observation, I have realized that even on my “time off,” I think and talk about the Lord a lot. And it was that way before I entered full-time ministry. When people in my life accuse me of always talking about Jesus and being obsessed, I have to concede.
But is being obsessed with the Lord unreasonable?
Many of Christianity’s staunchest opponents point to the doctrine of the Trinity as not only irrational, but a wholly novel Christian invention that even the Apostles didn’t hold.
Predictably, I disagree with this position. Instead, in both the Old and New Testaments, God is the same eternal, triune creator whose character is perfectly holy, righteous, just, merciful, gracious and above all, loving. In both testaments, he acts to judge, bless and redeem all of creation.
Infinity is a hard thing to write about. It seems paradoxical to write about something that has no beginning. Or, how will I end an article about something that has no end? Outside abstract mathematical concepts, nothing we know of is infinite.
Cosmologists know that space-time is not infinite. The most liberal estimates are that the universe began 13.7 billion years ago. That’s longer than I would estimate, but the universe had a beginning nonetheless. It is not infinite. Time began, and space itself seems to have limits. An older theory of the size of the universe holds it to be 27.4 billion light years wide, but newer estimates put it around 156 billion light years. That’s big, but it is not infinite. It has a limit.
Because I was raised in Austin and lived most of my adult life in West Texas, I have been blessed with friends and acquaintances that spread across the entire political spectrum, including the extremes. I don’t spend a lot of time on Facebook, but Wednesday morning I thought it would be interesting to see the differences in reactions to the election results across the spectrum from my various friends. Boy, was it diverse, but everyone had something in common. Most responses to the election seemed to communicate a major shift in American politics. Something had drastically changed.
My first column was published on April 28, 2012. I made the argument that neither of our major two modern ideological containers — conservatism and liberalism — were able to encapsulate the kind of living and thinking God wants. Instead, I argued that we should reject both labels and “look up” to Scripture as the ultimate authority for life and godliness.
As early voting closed and the big election day approached, I found myself wishing I could just reprint that article. Never have claiming the name “Christian” and jumping wholeheartedly into one of America’s political boxes been so demonstrably incompatible.
My wife calls me The Grinch. I don’t like holidays. I don’t like decorating. I don’t like shopping. I don’t like putting all the effort into preparing for a holiday, disrupting my normal routine, and then going back to normal like none of that effort ever counted for anything — it’s a whole lot of effort that didn’t end up making any real, lasting difference. Maybe my wife is right.
But I love Halloween.
Last Saturday, I was backpacking in Big Bend. On Saturday, while you were reading about Esther, I was climbing Emory Peak and the thought of you reading my column was on my mind. I've been writing about women in the Bible, so I also began to wonder if the Bible ever talks about a woman climbing a mountain because that's what I was doing in the moment.
Having wracked my brain for literally miles of hiking, I finally discovered an instance of not just one woman climbing a mountain, but at least five.
Submission to authority is perhaps the least popular concept in America today.
Students are more ready to believe in a man rising from the dead than they are to believe that God wants them to actually submit to the authority of the teacher who doesn't respect them back. You should see the looks on their faces. Actually, you can. Go to the mirror and say, 'I will pray for, respect and even submit to the authority of the president elected next month, even if he or she is not the person I voted for.' I'll bet you make the exact same face. But what do you expect from a country born from rebellion? It's part of our DNA.
My wife and I like surprises. One of my favorite surprises was the gender of both our children.
At some point during my wife's first pregnancy, I realized that we were just as likely to have a girl as a boy, and I knew nothing about how to raise a girl.
My mom was the only female in our house growing up. I had one brother and even the dogs were males. My wife was also the only steady girlfriend I had ever had. I was at an utter loss as to what a little girl would even need out of a dad. I hadn't even really figured out how to be a good husband yet. I even made a new word to describe my situation: anogyny — the state of having no clue about women.
The bane of a father's existence was released just in time for my oldest daughter to fall hopelessly in love with it. The movie 'Frozen' came out in 2013 when she was 2. The only words she could repeat were, 'Let it go!' I had the uniquely fatherly pleasure of listening to her 'sing' those words over, and over, and over, and over again for 30 minutes at a time; all the while being wholly unable to determine with certainty whether the activity exposed her as the most malevolent being ever created or made me love her more.
'Frozen' also brought a new request to our household. 'Daddy, I want a sister.' Soon thereafter, my wife announced her second pregnancy and I began praying for a boy, but Leah prayed for a sister. Guess who God listened to.
As a young pastor, I have long felt a strong camaraderie with Timothy.
Timothy was a young pastor who Paul had mentored personally for some years. When Paul sent him on his first 'solo' assignment in Ephesus, he continued to guide Timothy through letters. First and Second Timothy contain priceless directions on how to be a pastor in a local church and, perhaps more importantly, a description of the kind of heart the pastor of a local church needs.
On the first page of the Bible, God creates people along with the rest of creation. Genesis 1:27 says, 'So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.'
Mary Magdalene was not a prostitute.
The Bible shares precisely two things about Mary’s background. She was from a town in Galilee called Magdala and she had been possessed by seven demons. Most of the passages that mention her in the Gospels take place during Jesus’ death or resurrection and the Bible only reveals her hometown and previous demonic possession about her past.
I read an interview with a pornographic actress once. She talked about the frequent response of men when they see her in public while accompanied by their wives or girlfriends. The men would approach her and say with an obviously false inquisitive tone, "You look so familiar. Where do I know you from?" She described the temptation to ruin that man's relationship by answering him honestly.
I miss Jean-Luc Picard.
When I think of truly great male role models, my mind always goes back to Captain Jean-Luc Picard, the captain of the USS Enterprise in Star Trek: The Next Generation. Above and beyond my run-of-the-mill, nerdy Star Trek fascination, Picard stands out in my mind as the last great male role model on prime-time television. His character was an impeccable balance between strength and human vulnerability, emotion and restraint, intellect and action and confidence and humility. His closest confidant was Dr. Beverly Crusher, the ship's chief medical officer. It seems he ate breakfast with her every morning because he valued the opinions and perspectives of a woman. There sat in the captain's chair a man who was competently and unapologetically in command of the ship, using his authority always to accomplish the mission set by his superiors and for the good of his crew simultaneously.