Welcome to Monday’s edition of “Links I like”, a daily round up of the weird and wonderful things I find online, which usually starts with a few Kindle deals. Today, Crossway’s put a bunch of books by Paul Tripp on sale:
- Dangerous Calling—$4.99
- What Did You Expect?—$4.99
- Sex & Money—$4.99
- Whiter than Snow—$4.99
- A Shelter in the Time of Storm—$2.99
This year as I reflected over 2015 and the state of my heart in the year’s final month, I jotted down the following six areas for improvement…and quickly realized that they were, in fact, something I loved to chide: New Year’s Resolutions (sigh!).
I didn’t follow my list of 15 reading resolutions from 2015 perfectly—and I’m sure this list will be imperfectly followed as well. My goal is not perfection, but rather to take strides forward and change habits and thought patterns.
Years ago I talked with a respected Christian leader about the need for our songs to refer more often and concretely to the cross of Christ. His response caught me off guard. “I think Matt Redman has written enough songs about the cross for all of us.”
Eventually I heard he had changed his mind. But he’s not the only person I’ve met who has struggled with how many “cross songs” are being written and sung today. In fact, you might agree with a prominent worship leader I recently saw quoted as saying, “We sing about the cross too much in church.”
Most of Christian theology, one way or another, is caught up with the problem of evil–what it is, where it comes from, how will it be defeated, and how do we live with it in this world. God’s providence, though, is one of those doctrines that seems to uniquely impinge on the question of evil. How could a good, all-powerful God allow the amount and kinds of evil we see and experience in the world? Is it possible to speak of his control and sovereignty, his foreknowledge and wisdom, in a way that’s consistent with the world as we know it.
My husband and I recently went to the coast to celebrate our wedding anniversary of eight years. We, along with our baby, made the 2.5 hour drive north from Portland to a low-key little beach town on the Washington peninsula. There was the usual pacific beach stuff–bookstores and terrible espresso, a kite museum and salt water taffy shops. But one of the main attractions was a tourist trap billed as a “free museum.” According to Trip Advisor, it was the #2 Thing To Do in the town. We pulled into the parking lot and stared at the gaudily decorated entrance, crowded with large wooden carvings of bigfoot and old fishermen, various metal contraptions from the 1800s, and neon-colored sweatshirts. We first noticed the several large “Indian Chief” statues and gave each other a look. That’s probably OK, isn’t it? It’s so hard to know these days, there are so many things to make you feel uneasy. But it’s just a wooden man, nose like a bridge, bright painted feather headdress, arms folded at the entrance to the museum. It’s just a caricature, is all, it’s probably OK, but maybe it isn’t. Maybe it is just OK to me.
Shane Morris gets a hearty “amen” from me on this:
So here’s a heads-up for the media: We also believe the Trinity is an actual thing—a description of God’s being—and not some footnote or appendix that won’t be on the test. It’s the first thing we confess every Sunday in our creed. (We even drew a neat diagram of it to help you understand.) It’s kind of a big deal, as is the incarnation of the second person of the trinity—an idea Muslims also find abhorrent.
Good suggestions here from Nate Bingham.