The Advent season is designed to take up the grand narrative of the Bible and hold it before the church in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
A sermon is a divinely authorized announcement of God’s truth. It is a proclamation of the great history of redemption as much as it is the transmission of data.
As the pulpit goes, so goes the church.
The modern evangelical church sometimes seems to assume that whatever its theology, piety, and practice is must be (a priori) that of the ancient church when, in fact, much of its theology, piety, and practice is very modern indeed.
The songs sung in most evangelical congregations today are upbeat, uplifting, and therapeutic. Psalm 137 is a brutally honest song. It is a sad song. It is a compelling song to be sung in hope.
Convinced he and his generation were living in the Last Days, Luther saw himself as a prophet proclaiming the “Reformation-to-come”—the second coming of Christ when God would consummate His kingdom.
I believe it is necessary to view our current revolutionary moment as fundamentally and inescapably a matter of religious faith. In short: Current revolutionary activity is a manifestation of a kind of religious faith, even if this faith is—on Christian terms—ultimately a form of unbelief.
Seldom have evangelicals recognized that this commitment to making the gospel accessible deforms and trivializes Christianity, making it no better than any other commodity exchanged on the market.
Whenever there is a dreadful, large-scale event (e.g., a terrorist attack or the outbreak of disease), someone is sure to announce that this is God’s judgment on the world for our sins. Is it?
The greatest silver lining in this dark cloud cannot be missed. We are still able to publish the best news ever, a lamp is still shining in Babylon, and a voice is still sounding forth the summons of Jesus to believe and be saved.