Jojo Agot

Let Me Introduce You to God

Greg Gilbert in his book What is the Gospel?

Let me introduce you to god (note the lowercase g). You might want to lower your voice a little before we go in. He might be sleeping now. He’s old, you know, and doesn’t much understand or like this “newfangled” modern world. His golden days— the ones he talks about when you really get him going—were a long time ago, before most of us were even born. That was back when people cared what he thought about things, and considered him pretty important to their lives. Of course all that’s changed now, though, and god— poor fellow—just never adjusted very well. Life’s moved on and passed him by. Now, he spends most of his time just hanging in the garden out back. I go there sometimes to see him, and there we tarry, walking and talking softly and tenderly among the roses…

Anyway, a lot of people still like him, it seems— or at least he manages to keep his poll numbers pretty high. And you’d be surprised how many people even drop by to visit and ask for things every once in a while. But of course that’s alright with him. He’s here to help. Thank goodness, all the crankiness you read about sometimes in his old books —you know, having the earth swallow people up, raining fire down on cities, that sort of thing— all that seems to have faded in his old age. Now he’s just a good -natured, low-maintenance friend who’s really easy to talk to— especially since he almost never talks back , and when he does, it’s usually to tell me through some slightly weird “sign” that what I want to do regardless is alright by him . That really is the best kind of friend, isn’t it?

You know the best thing about him, though? He doesn’t judge me. Ever, for anything. Oh sure, I know that deep down he wishes I’d be better— more loving, less selfish, and all that— but he’s realistic. He knows I’m human and nobody’s perfect. And I’m totally sure he’s fine with that. Besides, forgiving people is his job . It’s what he does. After all, he’s love, right? And I like to think of love as “never judging, only forgiving.” That’s the god I know. And I wouldn’t have him any other way.

Alright, hold on a second. . . . Okay, we can go in now. And don’t worry, we don’t have to stay long. Really. He’s grateful for any time he can get.

Three Dollars Worth of Gospel, Please

D.A. Carson in Basics for Believers: An Exposition of Philippians:

I would like to buy about three dollars worth of gospel, please. Not too much—just enough to make me happy, but not so much that I get addicted. I don’t want so much gospel that I learn to really hate covetousness and lust. I certainly don’t want so much that I start to love my enemies, cherish self-denial, and contemplate missionary service in some alien culture. I want ecstasy, not repentance; I want transcendence, not transformation. I would like to be cherished by some nice, forgiving, broad-minded people, but I myself don’t want to love those from different races—especially if they smell. I would like enough gospel to make my family secure and my children well behaved, but not so much that I find my ambitions redirected or my giving too greatly enlarged. I would like about three dollars worth of gospel, please.

The Ministry of Small Talk

Eugene Peterson at ChristianityToday:

If we bully people into talking on our terms, if we manipulate them into responding to our agenda, we do not take them seriously where they are: in the ordinary and the everyday.

Nor are we likely to become aware of the tiny shoots of green grace that the Lord is allowing to grow in the back yards of their lives. If we avoid small talk, we abandon the very field in which we have been assigned to work. Most of people’s lives is not spent in crisis, not lived at the cutting edge of crucial issues. Most of us, most of the time, are engaged in simple, routine tasks, and small talk is the natural language. If pastors belittle it, we belittle what most people are doing most of the time, and the gospel is misrepresented.

Preparation Time Is Not Wasted Time

James Montgomery Boice on Paul in Acts 13:

Paul had been in the background for a long time. He seems to have faded from sight, at least to the eyes of the people in Jerusalem. Most had forgotten about him. Paul had spent three obscure years in Arabia, had been perhaps seven years in Asia Minor at Tarsus, and now had spent two more years at Antioch. Twelve years! Paul was getting on into middle age at this point, and he had not been used much—certainly not in any great pioneer work among Gentiles, which God had told him he would do.

But now the call came, and from this point on Paul leads the enterprise to which God had earlier set him apart. Continue reading Preparation Time Is Not Wasted Time

Why No One Can See God and Live

Dane C. Ortlund on Jonathan Edwards:

The reason no one can see God and live is not God’s wrath or justice, but because “God is arrayed with an infinite brightness” that “fills with excess of joy and delight,” so that “the joy and pleasure in beholding would be too strong for a frail nature.” According to Edwards, it isn’t God’s terribleness that would incinerate us. It is the joy that would erupt within us that we cannot handle.

Mike Cosper’s new book “The Stories We Tell” is a very fascinating analysis of why we love stories. For the first time I understood why I really wanted Professor Snape to be redeemed even if I hated him.

Christians believe an audacious fact. At the heart of our faith is the bold claim that in a world full of stories, with a world’s worth of heroes, villains, comedies, tragedies, twists of fate, and surprise endings , there is really only one story. One grand narrative subsumes and encompasses all the other comings and goings of every creature— real or fictitious— on the earth. Theologians call it “redemption history”; my grandfather called it the “old, old story.” Continue reading The Stories We Tell