Yesterday Howard Hendricks of Dallas Theological Seminary died and a number of tributes have appeared already. Justin Taylor’s put together a really nice short one here:
Howard G. Hendricks, known to the Dallas Theological Seminary community and beyond simply as “Prof,” saw his Lord face to face this morning. He was 88 years old.
Hendricks received a bachelor’s degree from Wheaton College (1946) and a Master of Theology from Dallas Theological Seminary (1950). From there he and his Jeanne moved to Fort Worth, Texas, where he became the pastor of Calvary Independent Presbyterian Church (now Calvary Bible Church). In the fall of 1951 he began teaching twice a week at Dallas. After one year he resigned to pursue a doctorate at Yale. But the founding president of the seminary, Lewis Sperry Chafer, died before the 1952 school year began, and theology department chairman John Walvoord was appointed president. Walvoord contacted Hendricks and asked him to delay his doctorate in order to teach at the seminary full time. He would eventually go on to earn a D.D. from Wheaton College Graduate School in 1967 while continuing to teach at Dallas. He taught at the school for a remarkable 60 years before officially retiring.
New scholarly analysis suggests that the more exposure heterosexual men have to pornography, the more likely they are to support adultery, pre-marital sex, and same-sex marriage.
I went out for a walk with Charlene on Monday and came across the location of a prominent old church in Toronto called St. John the Evangelist [Garrison] Church.
The church began in 1858 and served the community, originally serving the soldiers and families associated with nearby Fort York. Later on it served residents who worked in local factories. The church became a leader in social outreach, and by 1931 it ran the largest free medical clinic in Canada. It ministered to pilots and staff from the nearby Royal Norwegian Air Force training camp during World War II.
Sometimes I think if a stranger came into our church he might wonder why in the world are we singing songs about a Roman instrument of death, spikes, whips, and a crown made out of a thorn bush. Why are we singing about some poor guy hanging alone in darkness, bleeding, and thirsting while crowds mock him and spit on him?
This article by Brian Bethune (from Canadian news magazine Maclean’s) is very interesting:
For all his forewarning, Pope Benedict XVI, whose eight-year pontificate has been one long series of surprising moments, managed to stun the world once again. And once the Roman Catholic Church absorbed the news that its supreme pontiff was abdicating—an announcement fitly followed, only hours later, by a bolt of lightning striking the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica—it was clear that Benedict had set the stage for the most wildly unpredictable papal election in centuries.