How nice: SBC-related megachurch wears apostasy up-front

I think it's very thoughtful when a church displays its faithless apostasy right out there, in center-stage. That way, you don't actually have to go all the way through the membership classes to find out.

In fact, you don't even have to go.

Read: Baptist Megachurch Prepares for Female Senior Pastor.

It's okay, too; their "committee and the deacon council really felt the leadership of the Holy Spirit as [they] navigated this decision-making process." That evidently trumps the (Holy Spirit's) previously-written statement on the issue.

The article does not explain when "the Holy Spirit" changed His mind (I speak as a "cooperative Baptist").

"She is a good role model for any minister, male or female," one is quoted as saying.

Well, except for that little open-rebellion-against-the-Lordship-of-God thingie.

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End—impressions

SPOILER-FREE

This is the sort of review that I wished I could find (and couldn't) while I was making up my mind as to whether or not to take my younger kids.

We saw it last night. Based on what I could glean from reviews, I took my younger kids as well (ages 7 and 11), "prepping" the 7yo beforehand.

We liked it. It starts well, gets very complicated and feels a bit long towards the middle, and has an amazing last 45-60 minutes. We laughed and gasped, and generally enjoyed the movie.

As with the first two, be sure to stay past the credits.

When we rent the DVD, we'll turn on the subtitles. Between the dialects and the noise, we lost a lot; plus, I think the plot just gets a bit convoluted.

So what about my youngers? Every family's standards vary, of course, and I'm sure some will disapprove of mine. The movie has a lot of action-type violence, but the vast majority is very quick or distant and fleeting. You get the feel of great violence without many lingering, exploitive closeups.

We covered the 7yo's eyes for a tight-framed scene towards the end when Davy Jones is face to face with a very unpleasant character from the second movie, and dispatches him. That's enough to warn you, without giving spoilers. It's maybe 10-15 seconds.

I caught no foul language, and one sexual allusion that will sail over the heads of youngers.

So, my opinion? Your mileage will vary, but if your kids have already seen the first two, and if you censor none or very little of them, this should be fine. From what age on? That's your call, parents. My impression on one viewing was that there was less yuckiness than the second, with its Davy Jones crewmen. They're here again, but for the most part they're more in the background. Well, with one very unpleasant hallucinated exception involving Jack Sparrow.

My 7yo, who is not at all above being scared by some movie elements, laughed and had fun and ended up (literally) giving the movie two thumb's up.

Johnny Depp's a lot of fun, the other main protagonists are all really in great form, and action and affects are breath-taking.

I actually feel sympathy for Orlando Bloom, though. I think the young lad was blessed with two huge lead roles (Legolas and Will Turner), but he just doesn't have a lot to give. He's physically not heroic-looking, and his acting is... adequate for limited roles. (Contrast Johnny Depp, physically similar, but a very gifted actor.) Other actors would do a lot to get Bloom' s opportunities. With LOTR and Pirates over (if Pirates is over), I'm not sure how many big films will fall into his lap.

So, if we're grading, I suppose on one viewing I'd give Pirates 3 about an A-. Which ain't bad.

Scott Ott shoots, scores, on Mitt Romney—as do the Stilleys

As I've noted before, Scott Ott of Scrappleface parodies news stories so well that sometimes it's hard to tell that they aren't actual reports.

This one is a little more out-front. Titled Romney: 'Kooky Mormon Beliefs' Won’t Affect Presidency, Ott brings to the fore a number of specifics that I would imagine Romney enthusiasts such as Hugh "Squish" "Evangelical Roman Catholic Presbyterian" Hewitt don't really want in the spotlight. These include, according to Ott:

• God is not eternal, but was once a man on another planet
• God is married to his goddess wife and has spirit children
• Jesus is the “spirit brother” of Lucifer and all humans are their siblings
• The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are three separate gods
• The Father and the Son each have separate, physical bodies
• The book of Mormon is more accurate than the Bible
• The gospel was lost until Mormon founder Joseph Smith restored it and there is no salvation outside of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
• It is impossible to be saved by God’s grace alone

Now, having said that, my own opposition to Romney is not related mainly to his being a cultist — though, admittedly, his being a cultist is not a "plus" to me.

I just think we need to be insistent that those who defend and promote him do it for other reasons than that (A) he isn't a cultist, or (B) Mormonism isn't all that bad, doctrinally.

And having said THAT, I'll add that some of the nicest people I've known have been Mormons. It isn't about nice. It's about the doctrine.

MORE SERIOUSLY STILL: Kevin Stilley's wife Susan says what I think, but says it better, here. To her thoughts, I would only add this: the big "sell" on Romney apparently is going to be that he is a religious hypocrite.

"Huh?", you huh?

That's right. We're going to be told that he is a sincere and convinced Mormon... but he won't let his worldview influence his conduct.

So, Crossword players, what is a nine-letter word for "Someone who says he believes one way, but behaves in another"?

Mm-hmm. "Hypocrite."

"Vote for me! I may be a cultist, but at least I'm a hypocrite!"

My, isn't that a great campaign-slogan? Evidently.

POSTSCRIPT: Susan's second part is up, and is a great read, good thinking and writing. She makes the case that Romney's cultic membership should concern us. Even more, she bonks Richard Land over the head repeatedly and deservedly.

And then, proving that his wife isn't the only sharp Stilley (some may have begun to wonder), Kevin Stilley posts a list of ponder-worthy quotations on Romney's candidacy. Read and think.

My own thinking:

1. Romney being a cultist is not a plus
2. I am more concerned with his total lack of credibility, his "road to Des Moines" conversion to conservatism (as I've written before, here)
3. His being in a cult offers an opportunity to Evangelicals across America to clarify the true, saving Gospel, by means of contrast
4. What opportunity have Evangelicals not botched horribly, within the last century?
5. Early indicators (Richard Land, Hugh Hewitt, etc.) are that they're going to botch this one badly, too
6. Romney's prominence and success isn't good for anyone
7. Mercy, I hope it doesn't come down to a choice between any Democrat and Romney — but less than ditto and Giuliani or McMeMeMe
   

UPDATE: I have no idea why comments were closed. Blogger has done that to me a couple of times. If it happens again, please feel free to let me know.

Smart dad, smart daughter

I recently did an essay over at Pyro on what many would call "modesty," and others "holy behavior" — but what I might call "dressing lovingly."

This sparked a number of reflections in others, maybe the most memorable being On Dressing Modestly. A (very!) young daughter asks her dad what he thinks of what she's wearing... and he tells her. Oh boy, does he.

Now, we can debate how heavily he comes across in talking to this very young girl.

But, first, I like that she asks her dad what he thinks, rather than just getting away with what she can, and who cares what he thinks? A girl who hardens her will against her father may feel that she is getting away with a lot; God—if Proverbs is to be taken seriously at all—thinks otherwise.

And second, I have to say, I think he got an important point across to her very memorably. What you wear says something. Is this what you're wanting to say?

And she responded wisely, rather than digging her heels in and proceeding with double-dose stubbornness to "show" her dad that he's not the boss of her.

His words may give second thoughts to some dads who have tried to make the same point gently, sensitively, respectfully — and seen it sail past like a bad pitch in the bottom of the ninth.

Maybe sometimes a bucket of icy water in the face, metaphorically speaking, is better fathering than a delicate little droplet in a dainty little glass, a droplet that may evaporate before it is consumed?

Douglas Wilson: I may be becoming a fan

Though people I like and respect tend to like and respect Douglas Wilson, I have not particularly done either.

Almost like forcing myself to try to read Jonathan Edwards because of his reputation, I've kept Wilson's blog on my list of favorites — but I've seldom read one through. I just don't get him. The one time he linked to one of my own posts, I didn't even get what his point was.

I've generally assumed that this was my problem.

Well, maybe it was, and maybe I'm coming 'round. Because (thanks, I think, to Frank) I made myself read his debate (at "Christianity" "Today," of all places) with Christopher Hitchens. Goodness, but it's simply deft and brilliant. (Go HERE to start; it has links to the other three parts.)

Hitchens, who is a very articulate and intelligent burbling fool, is an atheist who (like virtually all atheists) insists on groundlessly labeling things and people "evil" and "good." He asserted his position recently in a book. He prides himself, it seems, on being offensive in his attacks on people who are well-regarded by others, and/or recently deceased.

As you will see, Wilson simply shreds Hitchens' position. He leaves Hitchens with nothing except his very emotional and baseless assertions, which Hitchens keeps repeating as if repetition = proof. Wilson does this so well and so skillfully that, like a razor-blade's cut, I'm not even sure that Hitchens even now suspects the real depth and extent of the damage Wilson has done. But Wilson has laid Hitchen's position waste, and left only smoking ruins.

The challenge for Wilson and all presuppositionists. I'm told that Wilson is a presuppositionist. So far, he is true to that mold: they are without peer in demolishing their opponents' cases. Where I've never seen them strong is in establishing their own position. Van Til was always very critical of evidentialists because the latter do not leave unbelievers "without excuse." Yet I never read van Til himself making a positive case that had this effect. His "Why I Believe In God" was, I thought, very disappointing.

Similarly, in Bahnsen's debate with atheist Gordon Stein (get it and a lot more HERE), I thought the same pattern played out — or I misheard. I thought by the end of the debate, there was a blackened crater where Stein's assertions used to be. But Bahnsen did not establish his position.

So will Wilson do what he has shown that Hitchens cannot do? Or will he do as most presuppositionists seem to do: pulverize the opposing position, maybe make some Gospel assertions, but not provide what they demand from the other?

(As a reformed presuppositionist, I've tried to do what I challenge presupp's to do HERE. I've invited presupposionist interaction with that essay again and again, but never received any.)

Update: beaten badly, and that's good

I continue to listen to the audiobook of Baxter's Reformed Pastor and... dude! I am getting beaten up, daily, on each listen. He does it graciously but unsparingly, and it is well-read.

I so wish I could have heard and listened to this during my first pastorate. Had God granted me ears to hear, it might have spared me errors of attitude, action, and inaction that I regret (and even dream about) to this day.

Pastor brother, I commend it to you. Listen and hearken.

Here's another little taste. Baxter is giving motives for earnest oversight of the church. Each is simply a hammer-blow. Here's part of his fourth:

The last motive that is mentioned in my text, is drawn from the price that was paid for the Church which we oversee: ‘Which God,’ says the apostle, ‘hath purchased with his own blood.’ Oh what an argument is this to quicken the negligent, and to condemn those who will not be quickened to their duty by it! ‘Oh,’ saith one of the ancient doctors, ‘If Christ had but committed to my keeping one spoonful of his blood in a fragile glass, how curiously would I preserve it, and how tender would I be of that glass! If then he have committed to me the purchase of his blood, should I not as carefully look to my charge.' What! sirs, shall we despise the blood of Christ? Shall we think it was shed for them who are not worthy of our utmost care? You may see here, it is not a little fault that negligent pastors are guilty of. As much as in them lieth, the blood of Christ would be shed in vain. They would lose him those souls which he hath so dearly purchased. Oh, then, let us hear these arguments of Christ, whenever we feel ourselves grow dull and careless: ‘Did I die for these souls, and wilt not thou look after them? Were they worth my blood, and are they not worth thy labor? Did I come down from heaven to earth, “to seek and to save that which was lost;” and wilt thou not go to the next door, or street, or village, to seek them? How small is thy condescension and labor compared to mine! I debased myself to this, but it is thy honor to be so employed. Have I done and suffered so much for their salvation, and was I willing to make thee a fellow-worker with me, and wilt thou refuse to do that little which lieth upon thy hands?’ Every time we look upon our congregations, let us believingly remember that they are the purchase of Christ’s blood, and therefore should be regarded by us with the deepest interest and the most tender affection. Oh, think what a confusion it will be to a negligent minister, at the last day, to have this blood of the Son of God pleaded against him; and for Christ to say, ‘It was the purchase of my blood of which thou didst make so light, and dost thou think to be saved by it thyself?’ O brethren, seeing Christ will bring his blood to plead with us, let it plead us to our duty, lest it plead us to damnation.

Are you writhing in the dust yet? Right there with you.

If you have not yet gotten it, get it while you can.

Kee-kee-kee

(H-T James Kime)

Biola: Is my alma mater "tanking"? Is there a shark to be jumped in its near future?

...or has the shark already been jumped?

As the former BIOLA (Bible Institute of Los Angeles) moved towards being Biola University, I was in the last graduating class to have its diploma show "Talbot Theological Seminary." After that, it was assimilated.

We had many concerns even then, in the early eighties. It seemed as if Biola, pursuing Caesar's acceptance, was selling out on its its doctrinal distinctives. Theistic evolution was being taught, many were going wobbly on the Bible's teaching regarding the sexes. Some of us were seriously wondering if our degrees would soon require "explaining," like those of Fuller Theological Seminary grads.

Now president Clyde Cook is being replaced by Dr. Barry H. Corey, an Assemblies of God pastor. Yes, that Assemblies of God, Jimmy Swaggart's denomination. The one who holds as one of its doctrinal distinctives that baptism in the Holy Spirit is (A) separate from conversion and regeneration, (B) always marked by speaking in "tongues," and (C) necessary for a truly empowered, God-pleasing life. (Don't believe me? See here.)

Those are all reasons for concern. Adding to them is the high praise of apostate Francis Beckwith, who's delighted about the appointment, because it "seems to represent a clear departure for Biola from its West Coast fundamentalist/dispensationalist roots."

Beckwith particularly loves Corey's 2005 comments:

"Evangelicals are not defined by a political party, by their views on when life begins or by their justification for the war in Iraq," says Barry H. Corey, academic dean and a professor of church history at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary outside Boston. "Evangelicals are Democrats, Republicans and independents; they are conservatives, liberals and moderates; Catholics, Protestants and Orthodox Christians; members of churches large and small." (Orlando Sentinel, 9 July 2005)

For obvious reasons.

Spoiler-heavy : What happened to "24"?

WARNING I: this will be stuffed with spoilers about the TV-show "24" all over the place, and not only Season 6. If you don't want to expose yourself to them, read no further!

WARNING II: if you think talking about "24" (or any TV show) is trivial beyond words and not worth the time it took to write this... well, I sympathize. Feel free to skip this one. It won't be on the test, and it ain't deep!

I love "24," will watch it to the season's end, and plan to watch it next season. Also, I am not one of those people who delights in putting on superior airs by disdainfully criticizing anything popular, just to show how above-the-masses I am. In fact, people like that bore and repulse me.

But oh, my gosh—who kidnapped the regular writers of "24" and replaced them with pod-people?

One of the things I've enjoyed about "24" is the unexpected developments within the characters, and that even (most of) the bad guys are not depicted as 2D cartoon clichéd cut-outs. Think, for instance, of Ryan Chappelle. He was introduced as a very dislikable character; but then he showed signs of having more to him than just a flat set of ugly responses. By the time he died, he had become a very sympathetic character.

Or take again, and perhaps even more so, George Mason, who starts off a jerk and a coward, then shows some depth, then is a coward again — then dies a tragic hero after he's contaminated and dying.

Or take again take Lynn McGill, played by Sean Astin. (We just called him "Sam," for his run.) Starts off as a bit of a jerk, then he saves the day by catching Bauer's code — then he's a total jerk and a maniac, then he's a victim, and he dies a hero.

Or take again Paul Raines — a bit of a jerk, then a victim, then a hero, then a victim.

I could go on and on, and so could you. These are full-orbed, interesting people. You can't just say, "Oh, yes, I know this one. Officious by-the-book Jerkface. I know exactly what he'll say and do for the rest of the season."

And then there was Day 6, now coming to an end. Good heavens — what happened?

The season started off really well. Jack was back, the nuke went off; poor Jack had to shoot Curtis. All was tight and tense, and very promising.

And Principle Wood (only Buffy fans will get that), as President, was true to the mold of a complex character, with layers and surprises.

But then... oh, my gosh. Enter Powers Boothe as Vice President Noah Daniels. Wow, get it? "Noah"? "Daniels"? Those are, like, Biblical names!

This character was cut off the back of a cereal-box, he is so shallow and cartoonish and predictable. I cringe at his scenes. And Boothe! A good actor can make even a poorly-written role interesting. I thought Boothe was a good actor... but he plays this walking, talking cliché just as horridly as he is written. Worse! With that ugly smile, and that oily, purring growl... augh!

And his idiot lover/secretary/whatever-girl, that blonde — it doesn't even matter what her name is. She's another cartoon, and a bad one! Their scenes together make me writhe and groan!

But merciful heavens, it even gets worse.

One of the coolest "24" characters EVER, and one that convinced us that this was a series worth sticking with, was SecDef James Heller, played perfectly by William Devane. We figured he'd be a cartoon character at first, but boy, did we find out we were wrong! Guy was tough, sharp, disciplined, deep; a conservative, heroic patriot. Just a great character. More than once, one or all of us exclaimed, "Whoa! Go, Dad!"

We were all glad to see he's back in Season 6 — or is he? It looks like him. It has his voice. It has his name. It is played by the same actor.

But good grief, what is that coming out of his mouth?!

Heller-as-pod-person tells Jack that he blames Jack for what happened to Audrey.

What?!! Jack, who enraged the Chinese by doing his job? Jack, who was framed for a Chinese death caused by Chinese "friendly fire"? Jack, who was kidnapped on American soil by the Chinese, wrongly held, tortured for two years? Jack, who hung tough and wouldn't tell the Chinese a word? Jack, who evidently could have been freed, but wasn't worth freeing until the President needed him back — so he could hand him over to a terrorist?

That Jack? He blames that Jack?

Merciful heavens, what an idiot. (And "idiot" is the one thing Heller was not.) What does he imagine that could Jack have done about it? Wasn't Jack kind of tied up at the time—literally? What about Dad himself? If anyone might have stopped Audrey, wasn't Dad in a better position?

If Dad's really anxious to blame someone, isn't he himself a better candidate?

But no, this Keller-pod-person blames Jack, tells him he's a curse, orders Jack to stay away from Audrey. He's even filing for restraining orders!

That isn't a plot-twist; it's a plot-trainwreck. It is so appallingly bad, that it is at the same time sad and insulting.

Well, at least they haven't had Chloe turn out to be a terrorist, or killed her, yet.

And then I remember... the season's not over yet. (Run, Chloe!)

I just hope the season ends well, I hope they fire all those writers, and I hope they regroup for next season.

Article on wayward children, by one of them: forum invited

I know nothing of the backstory, but evidently John Piper's son Abraham was a wayward child of some sort. And now he has posted 12 Ways to Love Your Wayward Child.

If you've the time and inclination to read it through, tell me what you think.

Pastoral yowch

In case my pastor-type readers missed it, Justin Taylor posted a time-sensitive deal (May only, I believe) for getting Richard Baxter's The Reformed Pastor as an audio book.

This is one of those always-meant-to-but-never-have books. Well, I'm "reading" it now, and my! is it yowchy! I anticipate coming back to it again and again, for more badly-needed bludgeoning.

Baxter is so on-target, yet gracious, and yet unsparing. (The book is well-read, too.) I just heard one of my favorite excerpts:

Take heed, therefore, brethren, for the enemy hath a special eye upon you. You shall have his most subtle insinuations, and incessant solicitations, and violent assaults. As wise and learned as you are, take heed to yourselves, lest he outwit you. The devil is a greater scholar than you, and a nimbler disputant; he can transform himself into an angel of light to deceive: he will get within you, and trip up your heels before you are aware: he will play the juggler with you undiscerned, and cheat you of your faith or innocency, and you shall not know that you have lost it; nay, he will make you believe it is multiplied or increased, when it is lost. You shall see neither hook nor line, much less the subtle angler himself, while he is offering you his bait. And his bait shall be so fitted to your temper and disposition, that he will be sure to find advantages within you, and make your own principles and inclinations betray you; and whenever he ruineth you, he will make you the instruments of ruin to others.

So I give you the modern version of tolle lege (take up, read): download, listen.

105 random things about me

I have been double-tagged on this one, by Kim the Kanadienne, and by Lisa. (I have another tagging I'm working on, but it's not coming as fast.)

Near as I can get it, this is to be a list of random things about me. Carla did 100, and it's a great list, much better than mine. Lisa and Kim (linked above) did 7 interesting things... let's see what comes to me. [Afterwards: oh, crud. A lot came to me.]

Why would anyone read this? Can't imagine. Maybe it's like a traffic accident: fascinating, in a horrifying way. Oh, well, here goes:

1. My wife is the smartest, most amazing woman I know. There seems to be virtually no subject that she doesn't know at least something about. I never feel I've thought a decision through until I hear what she thinks. I've known her a couple of decades, and she still amazes me regularly. And planning trips? No mortal is her equal. She's interesting.
   
2. I am the youngest of three children, with my sisters being 10 and 13 years my seniors. (A seminary professor unkindly [but not cruelly] referred to me as a product of "middle-aged carelessness." Though I've been called worse, my late mother assured me that I was deliberate. Or anyway my conception was.)
3. As a yoot, I was an amateur herpetologist. When I did a talk and a slide-show for our nearest Herpetological Society, I was the youngest who had ever spoken there. In the course of my dabbling with that hobby I had alligator lizards, caimans, tegus, boa constrictors, gopher snakes, red racer snakes, basilisk lizards, and various toads, frogs, and salamanders. Coolest lizard was probably the old-world chameleons (as opposed to the anoles you can buy anywhere), but they were delicate and very hard to keep. I'd take one on my finger into the back yard, point it at a fly sitting on our low wall, and zap!, out would come its long tongue. It was like having a lizard-gun.
4. I owned a business in my very early teens: Dan Phillips' Flies (motto: "My dry flies float and my wet flies sink"). I tied and sold trout flies, for which business I had to get a state license. It got its kick-start when I was hired to tie flies at the Great Western Sports Exhibit. This was for a booth selling property in the Sierra. I would tie a free fly for anyone, and as the crowd gathered to watch, salesmen would talk to them. Pretty good money; lots of fun. I met the accomplished character actor John Dehner — but, unfortunately, did not realize how many times I'd seen him on TV. Sadly, I was more ambitious than my skills warranted at first (I got better), and did not manage the business well.
5. I invented two trout-fly patterns that were actually very good, and which I still use in fly-fishing: the Dan Phillips Humpy (a variation on the classic Humpy), and the Red-tailed Alice (named for my mother).
6. Dry-fly fishing is my favorite form of fishing, though it is also the hardest. (Perhaps that's why it's the most fun?) Watching your fly float along, then seeing it get "hit" by a trout — simply electric.
7. When I was young, I was a miserable traveler on our family trips to the Sierra, because I just wanted to "get there." I constantly asked "Are we there, yet?" I couldn't wait to start fishing. My poor parents.
8. When I got to my later teens, and especially after my conversion to Christ, the trip itself became more and more fun. Coming from the Los Angeles area, watching the crowded cities give way to the open, dusty desert; then to the low foothills to the left; then to the high desert with the hills turning to craggy, forested mountains, with ribbons of streams tracing their way down the foothills — just thrilled me.
9. After my conversion to Christ, I regularly did (and continue to do) what would have been unimaginable to me as a child: go to the Eastern Sierra without fishing gear! I go just for the beauty, the serenity, the time I spend with God. I'd go now, if I could. In fact, I'd move my family there, if I could. And I've tried.
10. I love clear running water — particularly in the Sierra!
11. I remember five-cent coffee (at Schat's, in Bishop, California).
12. I remember thirty-cent per gallon gas, with full service.
13. I remember the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, and being appalled at all those girls screaming.
14. First presidential vote: Jimmy Carter. It was a mistake of idealism and naivete. I first began to realize the gravity of my mistake when I saw a picture of him (as the caption read) "accepting the mark of a Hindu worshiper" on his forehead. I can sympathize with folks who vote stupidly; not with those who refuse to admit and learn from it, however.
15. One difference between Rush Limbaugh and me: I have voted for Ronald Reagan. Twice.
    
16. Dang, I'm old.
17. My father was 49 when I was born, and my mother 39.
18. A blessing for me that my father had such remarkable health. When he took his last hike with me, he was about eighty years old. Remarkable man.
19. I didn't really begin to appreciate my father until I was about sixteen years old.
    
20. On our first hike together (somewhere around my twelfth year), my father carried my backpack part of the way. On our last, I carried his.
    
21. He would have turned 100 last year, if it wasn't for the misdiagnosed and thus mis-treated cancer that took him.
22. I hate cancer like it was a person, I still tear up at the thought of my father's death, fourteen years later — and I still bitterly miss my father.
23. In Princess Bride, I tear up at Inigo Montoya's scene with Count Rugen. I picture Rugen as Cancer, and myself as Montoya.
    Inigo Montoya: Offer me everything I ask for.
    Count Rugen: Anything you want.
    Inigo Montoya: I want my father back, you ________.
    
24. And yep, I tear up, just writing that.
25. Not quite following in my father's footsteps, but I was just shy of forty-four when my last was born. Thankfully I too have a very healthy constitution, though I am not in as good shape as my father was.
26. A tribute I read not too long ago said, "If I were half the man my father was, I'd be twice the man I am." That resonates painfully with me.
27. First job out of high-school: cooking at Bob's Big Boy in Glendale, California.
28. I have also been a private investigator. My boss thought I was very good; he said he couldn't wait until I got my first church, since then I could work for him full time. ("How hard can it be to get up and talk for fifteen minutes, once a week?")
    
29. I am twice-over a failed MLM-er. I just can't "use" my friends that way — and never had that many friends.
30. I did hear something useful from a couple who was (by contrast) successful at MLM. They told me something like this: "In conversation, you are always either buying, or selling." In other words, you are telling, or being told; you are persuading, or being persuaded.
31. My failing in conversation is that I usually am a listener, a "buyer," and not a persuader. (I know, you wouldn't think that by the blogs. But they're primarily monologues, aren't they?) I'm often uncomfortable taking charge of a conversation and aiming it where I want to go. This makes me a terrible salesman, and it isn't great for me as a pastor.
32. My father was the same! He tried to sell magazines once, and he said his presentation went something like, "You probably don't need another magazine, do you?"
33. The exception to "usually listener, not persuader" is in preaching, teaching, and writing — but, again, they're primarily monologues, aren't they? Perhaps more to the point: people are there hearing me voluntarily.
    
34. None of this to say that I won't debate, or engage in verbal swordplay. I just am very unlikely to initiate it.
35. To illustrate, one of my great failings in my first senior pastorate was my horrible reluctance to go toe-to-toe. I reasoned that the expository preaching was plain, pointed, and specific, so what could I add to it? If knowing what God said wasn't sufficient, what difference would me initiating an encounter and repeating the same thing in a different setting make? If the person had no sense of needing to hear a given (and already-preached) truth, what could I do?
36. I have seen the error of my ways. But that hasn't made me like it one milligram more.
37. Being a responsive listener does, however, result in even strangers telling me some pretty amazing things.
    
38. My recurring nightmare as a child: a monster was chasing me. I had the power of making huge, hurtling jumps. I could leap from our porch to the bottom of the hill, then to a distant bus-bench, then on and on. But the monster always kept right up with me, and it never took its eyes off of me, even for a second.
39. My recurring nightmare as an adult was realizing that I was to teach a seminary class in five minutes, and had nothing prepared.
40. I have another sort of recurring nightmare that's rather annoying: I very vividly "hear" someone rapping sharply at the door. I awake, startled, check it out. Nothing.
41. I think white-car drivers are the worst in the world; and white-van or -truck drivers are the worst of the worst. This is a scientific fact. But which the chicken, which the egg? Is it the inability to pick an actual color that makes a bad driver? Do bad drivers pick white cars, or does the car being white cause someone to be a bad driver? I once was forced to drive a white rental car, and towards the end found myself changing lanes without signaling. I never do that. I signal turns on dirt roads! It was the white paint that did it.
42. Traffic pet-peeve: people who change lanes without signaling. Usually, it's white cars—but by no means exclusively.
    
43. Social pet-peeve: people who accept cell phone calls, and engage in conversations, no matter where they are or what they are doing. (Does the White House really need you right now?)
44. Commercial pet-peeve: checkers who carry on dialogues with fellow-employees when they're supposed to be waiting on you.
    
45. Just to tell you: if you ask me out, and then randomly accept a non-urgent call and engage in conversation while I wait, I am likely to leave. I'll be nice enough about it, but if I'm really that uninteresting, there are other things I can do. So if you've tired of my company, there's one way to solve your problem.
    
46. I am successful at my job (praise God), and am very grateful for it. But I do not love it.
    
47. Leaving aside the joys of marriage and family, and the joy of knowing Christ, I am happiest when I am preparing for or delivering a sermon, or any Bible-related talk. The process of sermon preparation and delivery makes me feel alive, makes my heart sing.
48. Afterwards, however, I'm nearly useless for awhile. (My dear wife might challenge the "nearly," and not unkindly.)
    
49. I have almost never turned down an invitation to preach.
50. The only refusal I remember making was a matter of principle — and, even then, I did it very unhappily and with extreme reluctance.
51. I have also been happiest in the Bishop/Mammoth Lakes area—except that I always have to leave! (What's up with that?)
    
52. My conversion to Christ was academically revolutionary to me. Before, I was a whimsical student, meaning I only studied what interested me. I had no discipline whatever. C's, D's, incompletes accompanied a few A's and B's in the subjects that did interest me. The thought of college horrified me, primarily to see people chained to books instead of having fun with their friends.
53. After Christ saved me, all that changed. It began instantaneously, but it took time. Studying the Bible, itself, was the first new discipline. Then Greek.
54. The result was that I did the Talbot Theological Seminary M.Div. three-year program in 2.5 years, with a written thesis, and a GPA of 3.94. That's to the glory of God.
55. I probably made a mistake in not following that up by pursuing a doctorate. The thought of the money was just too staggering, and I wanted to get out and do. And do, I did. But not well.
56. Starting to work out the providential implications of that, though, and thinking of my children and all, is a ticket to insanity. So, I am where I am by God's will.
    
57. I have twice had the experience of teaching the same exact class, with the first time being terrific fun, and the second time a miserable chore. It taught me what dramatic difference class make-up and dynamics can make.
58. Example: Introduction to Hebrew. First time I taught it was a blast, believe it or not. hard, but a blast. So I was jazzed for the second go-around: I knew my stuff better, had worked out the kinks -- and I got this bunch of whiny, excuse-making, unmotivated students, that just brought me right down to the ground. Maybe only a few of them were really that way, but you know the saying about a little leaven. Same material, better teaching -- totally different experience! (Ditto teaching a class in Microsoft Word in a secular school.)
59. I had parakeets as a child, and taught them to say "Pretty bird," and "Good grief, Charlie Brown!" They learned a lot more.
60. Now I have cats — which I used to hate.
61. I earned a green belt in karate at age 50, while suffering from kidney stones.
62. Early in marriage and parenting, I regularly took "Daddy days" — going off alone for most of a Saturday to pray, read, walk around. Now I'm so domesticated that I very seldom do this... but I do do it, and when I do, it is good for me.
63. Again, leaving aside hopes for my marriage and family, my greatest desire in life is to return to full time ministry of the Word. The older I get, the more intense my desire to feel I've even come close to doing what I should with what God has given me... which I'm nowhere near feeling.
64. Odd favorite food I can never eat (unless I want to go back to weighing 4500 pounds): toasted crackers made into a peanut-butter "sandwich" and jammed into a large glass full of chocolate chip ice cream.
65. Not-so-odd favorite food I can never eat for the same reason: huge sourdough roll baked to where the crust is hard and the inside steamy-hot, slathered with mayonnaise, piled high with cold-cuts on a bed of lettuce and crowned with olives and a bit of mustard. Mm-mm.
66. I have my late mother to thank (under God) for the fact that I love to read, speak well, and am usually a precise speller. And I do thank her.
67. My sense of humor is a mix of my parents', who had a dry wit and a fun sense of the absurd.
68. Here's a classic my-dadism. He liked to tell of the cream the doctor gave him to put on his face, for treating skin which (as I recall) was pre-cancerous. The instructions said that after a few days, parts of his skin would turn bright-red, as if burnt. This did indeed happen. But the instructions also said that, after a few more days, he would "look just fine." He said he was happy to read that, because he'd never looked "just fine" in all his life. But alas, he was disappointed; afterwards, he looked just like he did before.
    
69. I have seen Chicago in concert a bunch of times: twice at the Hollywood Bowl, once at the Inglewood Forum, two or three times at the Greek Theater, twice at Caesar's in Lake Tahoe, and other times as well.
70. Once, Chicago bass player Jason Scheff extraordinarily graciously met my family after a concert, which thrilled my daughter as a 12th birthday present. Very nice man.
    
71. Very tangentially and years earlier, one lady at my first church expressed the concern that, if the office of pastor were given too much power, I might have "the Chicagoes" come and perform. Which, in a desert town of 4000, would have been a nice trick. (I actually did dream about that, but I don't think she knew it.)
72. I was a drummer in my teen years, because I so liked Danny Seraphine's style.
73. Though I am about 35 years out of practice, I actually sat in on the drums with the musicians at church, April 29. It was the greatest fun I've had in awhile. My wife says I was good. I say I played it safe. It was bad for me spiritually, though. The next fifteen minutes, I kept re-living it, and thinking about what I should have done differently. "Oh wait -- they're praying!"
74. I have also played guitar, and did a concert at my first senior-pastor church with a friend who (by contrast) was a superb guitarist.
75. Only other secular concert I remember paying to see was Brian Setzer.
    
76. First color TV show I saw: the birth of Pebbles on The Flintstones, at a neighbor's house. How red her hair was!
77. I remember when remote controls were attached to TV sets by a cord.
78. I remember when remote controls were like metal tuning-fork thingies, instead of electronic.
79. I remember when TV repairmen came to the house, with their case full of cool instruments.
80. For that matter, I remember when doctors made house-calls. My parents had to call the doctor more than once, for my rather severe childhood asthma. My dad said I had blue lips. Treatment at the time, I believe, was a shot of adrenalin.
81. I have mostly outgrown my asthma, thank God.
82. I have known someone who died of an asthma attack. As a child, I didn't know it was that serious. Which was probably good.
    
83. I remember when asthma inhalers first came out. What a dramatic difference.
84. I corresponded a few times with the late, internationally-known scholar F. F. Bruce. Very nice man.
85. I corresponded, once, with William Hendriksen. Not so nice.
86. I interviewed the late Philip Edgecumbe Hughes for the Talbot school paper, of which I was the editor. Very nice man.
87. I got chewed out once in public by the late Charles Lee Feinberg. He didn't much like my review of Walvoord: a Tribute. (The fact that I had earlier given a glowing review of his own Festschrift, and contrasted it favorably with Walvoord's [calling the former "A Fistful of Scholars," and the latter "For a Few Scholars More"], didn't make any impression on him.)
88. Feinberg also berated me in class for my insistence on reading "Yahweh" as "Yahweh" instead of 'adonay, saying that that is what liberals do. Amazing scholar, good writer.
89. I met S. Lewis Johnson once, after hearing him speak. Great privilege.
    
90. Several surgeries, but no broken bones.
91. My oldest son Matthew and I share the same birthday, September 23. We also are alone in our family in our love for seafood. (Jonathan may be coming along.) Years ago, Matt and I started the tradition of going out together for a special seafood birthday dinner. This year he'll be married and away at college, and I expect his absence at our special dinner to hit me pretty hard.
92. Greatest pastoral God-given grace: communicating the Word to a group of people.
93. Greatest pastoral weakness: initiating one-on-one contacts, particularly if they are likely to be confrontive. (I'm perfectly comfortable with responding and getting deep into conversation, even with strangers; it's the feeling of barging in unwelcomed that I shrink from.)
    
94. Had a call-in radio show for awhile.
95. I've been slandered publicly and intensely. Can't say I recommend it; never be a ride at Disneyland.
    
96. I am an atypical male in that I have no problem asking directions. My disaffection for being lost or late far outweighs any reluctance to ask.
    
97. One of my most bitter (not-too-personal) disappointments: a well-known scholar was writing the Word Commentary volume on Proverbs. He asked for a copy of my Master's thesis, "The Sovereignty of Yahweh in the Book of Proverbs: an Exercise in Theological Exegesis." He intended to cite and use it in his commentary. I watched and watched for it for years. This was my big chance; I was very excited. Then, after long waiting, this man told me he would no longer be doing that volume. I've seen Proverbs scholarship swing around to where my thesis was in 1983 on some things... but I think my contribution stayed unnoticed on the shelf at Biola. And in that scholar's library.
98. I am a convert to homeschooling, having been quite opposed to it previously. My wife was there well before me.
    
99. Farthest journey: Scotland. Loved every day of it, want to go back, treasured memory, wish I could talk that way! Fly-fished there, one day.
100. Far places (on earth) I'd like to go: Israel, and New Zealand. We've pretty much back-burnered Israel, while we have dependents.
     
101. One specific thing I'd like to accomplish before I die: get published.
102. I just don't think making fools out of people is funny. The success of movies and TV shows with that as a premise, worries me.
103. One of my happiest pastoral/paternal memories: baptizing my son Matthew, at his request.
104. I have had a brush with death on a flight to Indiana. Interesting on many levels, not all of them happy.
105. Greatest aspiration: to see Jesus in His glory, to be with Him, to be conformed to His likeness by His sovereign grace. Nothing gets better than that.
     

Whew. Sorry. Now it's others' turn:

Tags (as long or short as you like—or don't do it at all, I know you're all busy):

Phil
Frank
Justin
Craig
Chris

Girls Gone Exegetical!

WARNING: this is a bunch of questions, a few thoughts, not so many answers. Just so you know.

So, what do you think of girls who write commentaries?

A friend over on the Greekblog mentioned the commentary by Karen Jobes on 1 Peter, of which I've seen a number of positive reviews.

So, say you read it. Say you pastor Karen Jobes' church, and you teach a Sunday School class on 1 Peter. There she sits, authorette of a complex, in-depth commentary on 1 Peter. How does that work? If someone asks you a question you can't answer, do you ask her about it? Do people start looking to her for answers when the questions are asked?

On her profile page for Wheaton, where she is a professor, Jobes herself says:

Watch out if someone asks you to teach adult Sunday School! I was firmly established in a career in computer science when I realized that I was enjoying preparing for and teaching my adult Sunday School class in Bible more than I was enjoying my job. The decision to leave my career in computer science for seminary and eventually for a doctoral program was not quickly or easily made, but was inevitable once the Lord developed in me a passion for teaching the Word of God to the next generation. I realized that if I did not heed his calling, I would reach old age with the regret of a misspent life.

What does that mean? I don't know. It's very reminiscent of the rationale I heard a female Princeton grad "pastor" give in a seminar at BIOLA: the Holy Spirit gives (pastoral) gifts to women, it would be disobedient not to exercise them.

So, women writing commentaries, theologies -- theological/exegetical books on female subordination... is that Biblically OK? Is there any limit?

What about a man leading a Sunday School class, using a textbook written by a woman?

The topic was just starting to simmer when I was at Talbot. They'd recently allowed women to enter the M.Div. program. This stands for Master of Divinity; it is viewed as more of a professional than an academic degree. At the time, it was seen as a pastoral degree.

At the time, the "positive" argument was that women shouldn't be denied the best in education. Maybe... maybe they wanted to be really good Sunday School teachers! Or leaders of women's groups in church! Or just really smart pastors' wives! Yeah, that's the ticket.

Couldn't possibly be that they simply wanted more students enrolled, and if the women turned around and leveraged these degrees to gain pastorates, oh well!

I remember the thought of a fellow-prof at the time. He said, off the record, "That's a little like handing someone a loaded gun, and saying, 'Now, you mustn't ever shoot this!'"

No doubt that was the motivation of some of the ladies. I had one Hebrew student named Sharon. She was simply a delight. She loved the Lord, loved the Word, loved being a woman — as God defined being a woman.

She headed up a woman's ministry in her large, Baptist church, and had great ideas encouraging women to be godly women, wives, mothers. She was also a great Hebrew student. Did a dandy paper on — what else? — Proverbs 31:10-31.

But I'm certain it wasn't the motivation of all of the ladies. Even then, there were feminist speakers on campus. A professorette spoke in chapel (!), gave a very nuanced, codespeak talk about women's ministries. I wrote an open letter of response that caused some flak.

The casuist, chip-on-the-shoulder way of dealing with this culturally-unpopular truth is to ask hard questions like some of mine, and then say, "See? Women can be pastors."

Sure they can. Just not God-honoring, Biblical, Christian pastors (1 Timothy 2:9-15).

Seems wiser to me to get the big things right, the wrestle with the smaller. Of course women cannot be Christian pastors; most men can't, either.

But the questions that start this essay? Not so easy, to me.