The Gospel Coalition

In theological circles that stress the pervasiveness of sin, we’re often told we’re more sinful than we realize. We can’t comprehend the extent of sin’s effects: its parasitic attachment to whatever good we do, its potential to taint even the purest of motives, the way it fractures shalom in the tiniest of ways, the resistance of sin’s rebellious heart toward God, or the sly and insidious actions motivated by a quiet fear of people. “Out damned spot!” cried Lady Macbeth after all her futile efforts to get rid of the bloodstains from her complicity with murder. Even after we’re rescued by Christ—trusting him not only to save us but also to make us more like himself—our sense of our sinfulness grows. The closer we get to Jesus, the more we see and feel our lack of holiness, our stubborn sinful patterns, our spiritual inadequacies. As the extensiveness of their sin dawned on people around pastor Jack Miller, he’d do the opposite of the world that constantly chants “You are enough” and “You are good” by saying instead, “Cheer up! You’re a much bigger sinner than you think!” Yes, we’re far more sinful than we can comprehend, and we’re guilty even of sins we’re unaware of, the sins the psalmist asks forgiveness for, our “hidden faults” (Ps. 19:12–13) that require purification.

Back in May, Kennedy said in an interview that he opposes any government limits on abortion access. When asked if he supported keeping abortion legal for a full-term baby (i.e., near the delivery date), Kennedy affirmed that was the case. Later, he clarified his position: “Abortion should be legal up until a certain number of weeks.” Susan B. Anthony Pro-Life America (SBA) responded at the time by saying his comments made him “unacceptable to millions of pro-life voters nationwide.” Yet now that Kennedy is nominated to head the HHS, SBA has been silent (as of the time of publication, SBA hasn’t posted a comment on their website). But SBA isn’t the only one. I reached out to SBA, Americans United for Life (AUL), Family Research Council (FRC), Live Action, National Right to Life Committee (NRLC), Students for Life, and the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission (ERLC). Only one of those groups was willing to comment.

It’s no secret that the wicked revile and mock the righteous. When believers teach that Jesus is the sole Savior of sinners, or that the wicked should repent of their evil deeds and hope in Christ, they can incur the wrath of the unrighteous. When believers hold forth the goodness of God’s commands about life, marriage, sexuality, children, dignity, and integrity, they can provoke the ire of evildoers. The biblical authors recognize this reality, so we shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. Wicked people love the darkness, so they scorn those who walk in the light. But this scorn is temporary. The biblical authors see further down the road, and they tell what the future holds. Our mourning shall turn to dancing. Our sorrow shall turn to joy. Our lament shall turn to laughter. And I don’t mean frivolous, lighthearted, or occasional laughter. I mean the kind of laughter that’s deep, lasting, and gratifying.

To say I’m bossy about Christmas is an understatement. As a kid, I insisted my sisters and I sleep in the same bedroom on Christmas Eve so we could all enter the living room together in the morning and share the first sight of presents piled under the tree. I made sure they both had a water bottle and a book to read if they woke up early, so they wouldn’t need to venture out and ruin the wonder. (As an adult, I’ve tried to convince them to ditch their husbands for a night so we can keep the tradition going. No luck so far.) Glory abounds at Christmas—in that sight of presents under the tree, in spectacular light displays, in the rousing harmonies of a congregation singing carols by candlelight. If we’re not careful, we become captivated by the wonder of all the secondary glories of Christmas and miss the main event.

Don Carson: In the broader culture, there is an astonishing amount of interest around in worship. In part, it’s tied to a larger quest for “spirituality,” whatever that is. "Spirituality" has become a kind of “good word,” like "motherhood" and "apple pie" in the 1950s. Those words have both gone out for various reasons, but now spirituality is a good word like that. You can’t say anything against spirituality, but it can mean almost anything. It can mean feeling part of the transcendent because you gaze at crystals. It can mean holding silence at Taizè. It can mean journaling. It can mean being deeply entrenched in Zen Buddhism. Spirituality is a catchall that somehow means being connected with the transcendent or the “other” and escaping the sheer sterility of this technological age, which focuses so narrowly on things and science and the like that we want to escape these narrow domains. Remember the Heaven’s Gate episode? It was discussed everywhere in the media. With only two exceptions (in my hearing), we couldn’t find commentators or journalists who would say that this was wicked. It was, in the strongest term, "bizarre", but you’re not allowed to say that anybody else’s worship is wicked or that what they’re doing in religion is wrong, stupid, perverse, and people-destroying. You can’t say that because it’s part of spirituality, and spirituality is good. So the strongest category is "bizarre". Of course, that judgment is simply based on the view that faith is personal and non-testable. There is fact and science over here, for those who still believe in such things, and then over here, there is faith. That’s mere opinion. If the Heaven’s Gate people have their faith, then that’s their faith. You can’t criticize it. It’s personal. The only heresy left is the view that there’s such a thing as heresy. That means you can never, ever speak of corrupt worship. Bizarre worship, maybe, but not corrupt worship. Nevertheless, Ezekiel doesn’t have any difficulty talking about corrupt worship. Ezekiel has quite a few things to say about worship. In this pair of chapters, he denounces corrupt worship. Later on in the book, he has a glorious picture, cast in Old Testament terms, of future worship.

Seventy-five years ago this fall, a 30-year-old evangelist named Billy Graham (1918–2018) began what was supposed to be a three-week evangelistic crusade in Los Angeles. When Graham finally left town, the campaign had been extended to 57 days and more than 350,000 people had attended the services. The L.A. Crusade had become national news, and the handsome, fiery evangelist with the Southern drawl was a celebrity. For the next seven decades, Graham was the most famous Christian in America and likely the best-known evangelical in the world.

It’s interesting how often the areas of our inner selves we strive the most to hide from Jesus are the ones he’s most interested in. And it’s amazing that these things about ourselves we hope he doesn’t see are the very things he means to cover with his grace. - Jared C. Wilson

When you think about heaven, what do you most look forward to? Having your body redeemed and being free from pain and suffering? Being reunited with friends and family? Or perhaps finding out what it’s like to “ride a drop of rain” (as one country song muses)? Scripture has much to say about the joys that await those who love God. Contemporary books on eternity, like Randy Alcorn’s Heaven, often emphasize the physical nature of God’s future kingdom and seek to expand our imaginations about all that everlasting joy might include. This is good. Such treatments can be a welcome correction to an overly spiritualized, disembodied, and boring view of heaven. But if we’re not careful, we can allow such longings to swallow up the most important one—the one that makes our hope distinctly Christian. After all, if you only long to be free from pain or hang out with friends, what are you doing more than others? Do not even the pagans do the same? Without denying the kingdom’s multifaceted glories, Samuel G. Parkison—associate professor of theological studies at Gulf Theological Seminary—wants to draw our attention back to the glory of all glories, the “one thing” David longed for above all else (Ps. 27:4). It’s found in the title of his new book: To Gaze upon God: The Beatific Vision in Doctrine, Tradition, and Practice. Seeing the face of God is “what makes heaven heaven”.

A teaser for Mike Woodruff's book is featured today on The Gospel Coalition! Read it ??

Trevin Wax: Not since the 1300s, when the world’s population imploded due to the bubonic plague, have we faced a demographic downsizing of the magnitude projected for the century ahead. Many observers predict the global population will peak in the coming decades, with estimates ranging from 2053 to the late 2070s or 2080s, before entering a period of decline. Wait a minute! you may be thinking. Wasn’t it just 50 years ago that experts warned about overpopulation? And don’t we hear constant talk of the world’s population boom? Yes, but as Peter Zeihan explains in The End of the World Is Just the Beginning, today’s population swell is partly due to increasing life spans. "Lower mortality increases the population to such a degree that it overwhelms any impact from a decline in birth rates . . . but only for a few decades. Eventually gains in longevity max out, leaving a country a greater population, but with few children. Yesterday’s few children leads to today’s few young workers leads to tomorrow’s few mature workers. And now, at long last, tomorrow has arrived."