Thursday, January 2, 2014

Dads, Write in Your Bible

This is high-strategy time. As one year gives way to the next, many of us are gearing up for a fresh start on our Bible reading plan — and especially if you’re a dad.


It’s no secret that the word of God and prayer are a personal means of grace that spill over for the good of those around us. And how much more for a patriarch? We read the Bible not just for ourselves, but for our families, for our friends, for our community. We know that God doesn’t transform his people into dead-ends, but into rivers of living water, and therefore, deciding on a route and digging in on that resolve has more in view than our own souls.


And this year, as you settle your plans, here’s another aspect to consider.


Dads, write in your Bible.


Now I don’t mean to merely highlight and jot down some cross-references, or even scribble some observations without any readers in mind. The initiative here is to write — and to write to your children. This means to get a new Bible with margins and walk from Genesis to Revelation, sketching devotional insights and prayers for your kids, that you will then give to them one day.


It will probably take you at least ten years.


So I just lost some of you. Ten years is a long time in a world of quick content. It can be addicting, I know. The fast return of ego metrics on the simplest tweet doesn’t exactly push us to burrow down in a project that only a few will read years in the future. But if you’re still reading, this might be for you.


But what’s the point?


Peter writes as a dying man in his second letter. He knows his end is drawing near, and therefore his words seem to have an increased vigor. He starts the letter by commending God’s power and promises sufficient to provide everything we need for our relationship with him and the character it effects. And then, in verse 12, he tells us his intent.


Peter wants to remind us (2 Peter 1:12). He figures that as long as he is alive on earth, he should “stir [us] up by way of reminder” (2 Peter 1:13). And in fact, precisely because he knows he will soon die, he says, “I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things” (2 Peter 1:15).


What is his “every effort” to be made? What is he doing in hopes of reminding the church long after he’s gone? He writes.


We know Peter’s effort involves many things off the page as well, but certainly it includes his writing. He knows what he wants the church to know, and he puts it on paper.


And though the mass of his influence is incomparable to ours, we have children who care about what we think. Do we have anything we’d like them to recall? To know? Of course they won’t be reading it centuries from now, but there’s a good chance they will read it, and that we can work now to remind them of a few things even after we’re gone.


And undoubtedly, the main thing we want to leave them is the gospel — the glory of Jesus in the word of God.


Speaking specifically now to the dads who are part of this “great awakening to the glory of God’s sovereign grace” — dads who might call themselves that kind of Calvinist — what better could we leave the next generation than the Bible infused with the scribbles of our affectionate prayers?


Can you imagine 30 or more years from now that hundreds of Christians will have Bibles given to them from their dads — Bibles saturated with the extra ink of love from the depths of their dad’s heart? That they can open these Bibles to read Philippians 1 and see a meditation in the margins addressed to them?


What kind of impact could something like this have overall if a bunch of dads did this? Or the real question is: what kind of impact might you have on your children if you did this? Most of us are not remarkable and won’t do anything awesome. But God has made us fathers, and our calling to this role is irreplaceable. As you pray for your children, write it down for them. As you are blown away by the message of Colossians, write it down for them. As you see more of Jesus in the Psalms, write it down for them. And then one day, give it to them.


If this is something you’re considering, here are a few steps to get you started.


1. Choose the Bible.


I recommend getting a new Bible without any marks. There are a couple options out there that work great for this sort of project, such as the ESV Journaling Bible or the ESV wide-margin from Cambridge.


2. Make your plan.


This is one idea, moldable from simple to complex for whatever fits you best. You might want to do only highlighting and underlining, with occasional prayers in the margins or the back. Or you might want to write a whole devotional commentary, filling up all the space you can with meditations and application. Or you might even do something only faintly related to either of these. But whichever you do, decide up front and keep it as consistent as possible.


3. Settle your details.


Figure out things like highlighter colors, pen points, index, etc. For instance, you might decide to keep it to three simple colors: yellow for importance, pink for repeated content within a specific book, and sky blue for inter-textual allusions. Remember that these colors vary among brands. If possible, stick with one type like this. For pens, you might decide to use a black Micron 005 for margin notes and a blue one for underlining. This archival ink is waterproof and never fades. (And don’t forget a ruler for those underlines.)


4. Pick your time.


Think through when you are going to journal in this Bible. Maybe it will become part of your daily Bible reading. Maybe you’ll dip into it a couple times a week. Maybe you’ll fluctuate between an intensive season and taking a routine break. Don’t forget that this is a project for the long haul. There’s no need to rush it. What matters most is that through God’s word you are believing his gospel and enjoying him — that is, remembering what you want to remind your children.


FAQs: What if I have more than one child? Write to all of your children and have the Bible copied for each child (by the time you finish, it will be worth it). What if my handwriting is terrible? Go the highlighting and underline route and capture your meditations and prayers electronically. Even if you have great penmanship, you’ll most likely want to get it transcribed electronically at some point.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

This Is Not Worth Quacking About

Did A&E know what would happen when it suspended Duck Dynasty patriarch Phil Robertson? Whether it was intentional or not, they are cashing in on trillions worth of free advertising.


Perhaps it’s really about LGBT rights at the cable and satellite television channel, half owned by Disney-ABC. But then there’s also the almighty dollar. Conceding to the LGBT agenda is increasingly what’s most profitable, what saves most face, and what brings least financial repercussion. And even more profitable is a firestorm that mobilizes the nation’s mass media and social media into doing more free promotion for the show and the network than anyone could ever pay for.


If it is a calculated move, we’re falling for it, hook, line, and sinker. And in trying to raise the question, even this post must slide halfway into the same trap. I’ll try not to mention the show and network by name again and lend any more help to the campaign.


Dear Christian, this is not something worth getting exercised about. As much as it may seem like “reality television,” it doesn’t take much of an eye to see how much this show is scripted and how much this is not the reality worth fighting for.


This is not our time to cry fowl about Christian civil liberties. The network never owed us this show, never owed us how many times they haven’t censored the name of Jesus from Phil’s end-of-episode prayers, and never deserved that we get this upset and in the meantime litter the Internet with their name and boost their profile. Think the numbers were impressive on the Christmas episode? Now, you watch and see.


Here’s a call for sheep in the midst of wolves to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16). Wisdom isn’t picking a fight whenever we can, but picking the right fight. Yes, we must beware: “they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake” (Matthew 10:17–18), but this is not that day. This is not the issue.


There will be real battles to fight — real courts and real judges and real presidents, governors, and legislatures that will continue riding the societal wave of the LGBT agenda. As the seemingly unstoppable train barrels down the tracks at us, we will continue to face excruciatingly tough decisions about when and how to hold our ground and when and if to dive out of the way and live to fight another day.


But this is not it. This is cable television. This is a silly show that, while genuinely entertaining, is doing just as much to marginalize Christians as backwater as it does to get the name of Jesus on television — as if that was ever the tip of the spear for the Great Commission, anyway.


Let’s lay down the weapons on this one. There will be other ducks to shoot. Pass on the decoy. There are so many good outlets into which to pour our righteous energy. It’s time to change the channel.

Good and Evil Are Not Equals

Don’t give Peter Jackson all the credit. He wasn’t the first to desire an adult version of J.R.R. Tolkien’s children’s story The Hobbit. According to author and scholar Colin Duriez, it was actually Tolkien himself who initially had the vision.


Tolkien wrote The Hobbit for children in the early 1930s. It wasn’t until the mid 1950s that he published its trilogy sequel for adults, The Lord of the Rings. Adults were so drawn to Tolkien’s work that late in life, he dreamed of re-writing The Hobbit for adults, drawing in the darker tone from his later stories. Yet he died in 1973 with the dream yet unfulfilled.


Now enter Peter Jackson, who is doing for the big screen what Tolkien never was able to do in writing.


Whether you’ve already battled the crowds to see The Desolation of Smaug, or are waiting till the theaters thin out, or are simply a fan of Tolkien’s books, we want to enhance your Christian experience of the story. We solicited help from Duriez and author Devin Brown to point us to the Christian themes deep within Tolkien.


Which is precisely what Tolkien would have us do. As much as any writer, he carefully crafted his tales for the profound spiritual effect they would have on the reader. He means for us to be deeply affected. He means for his story, set in a “secondary world” called Middle Earth, to give us a certain experience, a kind of deep joy and satisfaction, that draws from the “primary world” in which we live.


In this 3-minute video, Brown addresses the latent, rather than patent, Christianity that Tolkien has pressed into the fabric of his tales. He also tackles the theme of “luck” in The Hobbit — which points beyond mere coincidence to an invisible hand behind the entirety of the story. As Gandalf says to Bilbo on the last page of The Hobbit, “You don’t really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit?”


Also, see short videos of Brown addressing “How the Harrowing Journey Profits the Hobbit” (4 minutes) and “Choosing Wisely in a Complicated World” (3 minutes).


According to Duriez, a great theme, deep within Tolkien, is that good and evil are not equals. In this 3-minute video, he addresses not only the question of whether we should read the book before seeing the movie, but he digs up for us this dazzling Christian theme.


Also, from Duriez, see “J.R.R. Tolkien, Peter Jackson, and Making ‘The Hobbit’ Darker” (3 minutes) and “Where ‘The Hobbit’ Came From” (5 minutes).

Is It Sin to Experience Same-Sex Attraction?

There is no way around it. Dealing with same-sex attraction is messy.


There are many issues that, at least on the surface, do not seem clear. Take this question, for example: Is same-sex attraction (SSA) itself sinful, and if so, how should we deal with it?


Here is my humble attempt at an answer.


First, note briefly three biblical observations:


1. The Bible explicitly says that impenitent homosexual acts, not homosexual desires, keep a person from inheriting the kingdom of God. “Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9–10).


2. The Bible does not seem to explicitly mention same-sex attraction. It is possible that the “dishonorable passions” in Romans 1:26 could be dealing with SSA, but it’s unclear whether this is a reference to simply experiencing an attraction, or following the attraction into active lusting.


3. Our passions may be disordered by the fall of this creation, and yet be distinct from active sinning. Paul said, “the creation was subjected to futility . . . [and will one day] be set free from its bondage to corruption” (Romans 8:20–21). Even Spirit-filled believers groan under this “futility” and “corruption,” including “dishonorable passions.” “We ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:23).


Given the above three realities, it seems right to say that while homosexual practice is active sinning, the experience of same-sex attraction need not involve active sinning. John Piper says it like this:



It would be right to say that same-sex desires are sinful in the sense that they are disordered by sin and exist contrary to God’s revealed will. But to be caused by sin and rooted in sin does not make a sinful desire equal to sinning. Sinning is what happens when rebellion against God expresses itself through our disorders (“Let Marriage Be Held In Honor,” emphasis added)


In other words, although SSA is a disordered desire, owing to the fall and thus rooted in sin and broken by sin, nevertheless experiencing SSA is not in itself an act of sinning.


I mean at least two things when I say that experiencing SSA is not in itself an act of sinning.


First, experiencing a general orientation is not a sin.


In our sin nature, all of us are disordered sexually. My sexuality is disordered in that I experience a homosexual orientation. What I mean is that my sexual desires are exclusively “oriented” toward the same (homo) sex. This is true of me whether or not I am experiencing a specific attraction at any given moment. As I sit here writing, I am not experiencing an attraction to another man, but I am still exclusively attracted to men. So at this moment, though I have a homosexual orientation, I do not believe I am sinning in this regard.


Second, experiencing a specific same-sex attraction is not necessarily a sin.


Let’s say that I experience an attraction to another man. I don’t go looking for it, but it rises up spontaneously within me. At this point, my attraction falls into the category of temptation, and I can do one of two things. I can fight the desire in the same manner that anyone who is tempted with pride, jealousy, or fear would, and kill it before I sin. Or I can follow the desire into lust of the mind and eventually the flesh, which is a volitional sin.


When I look at another male and experience the butterflies of attraction, I must lay the desire for inappropriate activity with him at the feet of Jesus, and turn toward the superior promises of reward found in pursuing righteousness. If I do this, even though I have experienced the disordered groan of a broken creation, I have not sinned.


However, a word of caution might be helpful here.


There clearly is a biblical category for being tempted without sinning. Jesus was tempted in every respect, yet remained without sin (Hebrews 4:15), and James 1:14–15 distinguishes between temptation that leads to sin, and sin itself. However, it seems impossible to determine when exactly we have crossed the line from temptation into sin.


For example, how long can I experience the desire before I fight it, and still be blameless? Two seconds? Ten seconds? Half a second? Because Jesus is God, he never crossed the line between temptation and sin — though he knew the agony. But because I am finite and fallen, I cannot definitively discern this line.


Therefore, even though it is possible to be tempted without sinning, it seems wise to agree with David when he says, “Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults” (Psalm 19:12). I always want to say to the Lord, “If there was any sin in the way I handled that temptation, I am sorry. Keep me from it in the future.”


In summary, SSA is the result of a broken creation, and in that sense it is “sinful” or “dishonorable” (Romans 1:26). It is an effect of the fall. However, experiencing SSA is not the same as sinning. Rather, same-sex attractions should be treated like any temptation to sin. They should be fought with blood-earnestness in a way that recognizes the deceitfulness of the heart and the finitude of the mind.


When I do this — when I fight temptation, turn to Jesus, trust his promises, and rely on his Spirit — God is pleased. He is not mainly displeased because I need to fight, but pleased because I am fighting.


This is good news for all of us who experience all manner of temptations! May this fact lead us, no matter our particular groaning, to rest in Jesus more deeply, fight temptation more fiercely, and look forward to the day when our fight of faith will result in “praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7).

You Will Never Be the Same

Most evangelicals these days just want a gospel Snuggie. Wrap us up. Hold us tight. Numb us until we can feel nothing but hazy contentment. Go to sleep with a big smile on our face. We’re halfway into a dream when—


Someone is gripping our shoulder. He’s wrestling us awake. Our head hurts. Who is this crazy guy? A blurry man comes into focus. It’s Jesus. And — uh oh — he’s got a glint in his eye. That means trouble.


Come on, Jesus says. Wake up. We’ve got to get going.


Really, Jesus? we whine. I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s so comfy and warm.


Follow me, he replies. He’s got that dead-serious tone in his voice. He means business. We had heard about this, long ago in ages far away. But now he’s here and he’s calling us. Before we can offer an excuse for not going, he vanishes. We throw on some clothes, racing to catch up. This is going to get interesting.


God has been in the disruptive business for millennia. He specializes in it. He seems to love nothing more than to crash-land into people’s lives and alter them. He has a particular affinity for those minding their own business, normal folks who are off the grid and out of the fray. You carve out a quiet little existence in the Bible, and there are better-than-excellent odds that either a ferocious-looking angel or the altogether-normal-looking-but-utterly-transformative-Jesus is showing up in 3… 2… 1…


This happens over and over. Once you see it in Scripture you can’t un-see it. You won’t want to. You’ll come to take a certain glee in seeing the Lord seize another under-performing bystander for his glory. Think of Abraham. He’s barely introduced by name — Abram — in Genesis 11. We know next to nothing about him save for the fact that his wife is barren. But in Genesis 12, Yahweh suddenly instructs him to leave his blip of a life. The L??? God Almighty has chosen Abram to become “a great nation” (Genesis 12:2). It’s not written in chapter and verse, but the shock the old man feels is palpable. Him? Why? How? But the promise holds. Abraham becomes the head of the trans-millennial covenant of salvation, the central narratival reality of the Bible.


One minute you and your wife are barren and ready to die. The next you are the cornerstone of the people of God in all the ages, world without end, hallelujah.


So it is with humble, pious Mary. When we meet her in the Gospels, her chief joy in life is shaping up to be her marriage to Joseph. Mary is on no one’s list of “Women We’re Watching as Potential Birthers of the Messiah.” She’s going to get married, bear children, and die. She’s a grain in the sand on the beach of history, a flower that grows for a time and then is cut down. This is a story as old as the world.


But Mary will not go quietly. Not at all. Mary is chosen to give birth to Jesus. The angel Gabriel appears to her, frightens her half to death, and in just a few explosive sentences unpacks how it is that she, a virgin, is to give birth to “the Son of the Most High” (Luke 1:32). It is hard to put into words how shocking this was to Mary. There were no categories for this sort of thing before her, and there would be no such categories after her. She was a one-category woman, the only integer in this number set: virgins who conceive and give birth to the greater David. No one else knew such word-choking surprise. Only Mary.


But everyone who worships Mary’s Son resonates with this call. Ahhh, we say when we read this narrative. It was for Mary as it is for me: disruption. Jesus is my disruption.


So maybe God breaks in, shakes things up. But surely when God meets you, things get better? Easier? Right?


In their pre-apostolic state, the future apostles minded their own non-apostolic business. They were guy’s guys, really. They fished. They ate fish. They smelled like fish. On sunny days, they fell asleep in their boats. Then Jesus Christ showed up and called them to follow him. As in, now. These were not the seminary all-stars. They didn’t ace the Greek final. They were the salt of the earth. But Jesus wanted them to be the salt of his kingdom. And so they were.


Matthew’s description of their call is straightforward: “Follow me,” Jesus says, and they do (Matthew 4:19). From there, they go on to suffer with Christ, they watch him be taken away to die a criminal’s death, and they themselves die in ministry. No, things did not get easier for the apostles. Things got much, much harder. Jesus is my hardship.


Maybe we read these stories (and many others like them) and feel a little shiver race through us. Whew, we say, that was all very exhilarating. Jesus sure did call people to himself in wild ways in the Bible. So glad life is more normal now.


Whether we know it or not, we’ve got Jesus domesticated. We think we’ve calmed him down, cleaned him up, and talked to him in an inside voice. Now he’s renounced his disruptive ways. No more of this “sell everything you have and follow me” (Mark 10:21). No more of this “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account” (Matthew 5:11). No more forsaking all, no more unrelenting holiness, no more explosively exclusive truth claims. Jesus is on an apology tour. He’s holding a press conference at noon and he wants to tell everyone how he’s a changed man. He lets you keep your life now. His gospel isn’t really about dying to self, it’s about becoming your best self. If you’re shiny and happy, bonus points. He’ll throw in some prosperity and comfort to seal the deal.


But when you show up for the press conference, you spot Jesus. Oh no, you say to yourself. We got him all wrong. Jesus is on the move, and he’s coming straight for you. He’s after his own glory, and there’s no telling what he will do with you. He may catapult you to an unreached people group far, far away. He may send you back to normal life to stop punching the clock and start building a vocation. He may instruct you to keep on raising the kids and changing the diapers, but to do so as worship, not weary labor.


He may take you aside, and gently tell you that a storm is coming. You’re going to get sick, he might say. You’re going to lose everything. He is not here to offer you your best life now. He offers you something better: I will never leave you nor forsake you. You are going to walk through the shadow of death, but he will go with you into the darkness. He died to be there. He rose to be there. Wherever he sends you, he will be there.


Jesus is not a Snuggie. He is not a long, languorous dream that makes everything hard disappear. He is the God who saves. He is the God who stays. Do not ever forget: he is the God who disrupts.


We thought he was gone; we thought he had gone quiet. But Jesus Christ is here, and he has that look in his eye. You and I will never be the same.

Football and the Warrior Instinct

One of the last things we need is for young men to think that masculinity is defined by tackles and touchdowns. That would be bad. But it would also be bad if the world were bleached of tackles and touchdowns.


Why? Because while “warrior culture” is dangerous, warrior instinct is endangered, and football stands as one of the last bastions of its enduring good.


Undivided, straightforward, sacrificial focus for good. That is what I mean by warrior instinct. It’s a summary of the character Paul refers to beginning in 2 Timothy 2:3 — the character of a “good soldier of Christ Jesus.” Elaborating on the solider metaphor, Paul tells Timothy, “No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.” Get this: Paul, the experienced missionary, encourages Timothy, the young pastor, with the example of a warrior. What exactly is that example? It’s focus. Warriors don’t get distracted. They don’t get caught up with the wrong things. They are clear about their aim. Life and death are on the line.


Okay, you might be thinking, but what’s war have to do with football? Well, actually, war and football (sports in general) have some deep connections.


Paul himself sees a connection as he continues his exhortation to Timothy. After the example of the soldier, Paul moves on to the example of an athlete with the same kind of commendation (2 Timothy 2:5). If the soldier fights with focus, the athlete only wins if he plays by the rules. Both of these examples, along with the painstaking work of a farmer, represent the character that Paul says Timothy should emulate.


We shouldn’t see these as three unrelated illustrations, but as one total, connected picture of what it means to be a good soldier of Christ Jesus. In a similar way, Doug Wilson notes that all the “overwhelmingly positive” metaphors of sports and war in the Bible point to the same characteristics of “discipline, sacrifice, hard work, focus, intensity, and so on” (“Empire, Sports, and War,” 292).


This passage in 2 Timothy, serving as a sort of snapshot of these combined metaphors, can be summed up as undivided, straightforward, sacrificial focus for good — what I’m calling warrior instinct.


We need this warrior instinct more than ever because it’s increasingly rare in our society. We don’t have to look far to see that the ambition for an undivided, straightforward, sacrificial focus has been compromised by a distracted, weaselly, self-obsessed directionless. The studies are out and the articles have been written.


Distracted Like Never Before


Distraction is a problem, perhaps like never before. One clever smartphone commercial has already capitalized on the commonality of it, branding itself as the “phone to save us from our phones” — and it was three years ago. Apple recently chimed into the sentiment with their latest video of a young boy buried in his phone during the holidays with his family. Aside from the pleasant twist at the end, they brilliantly played into a recognizable scene — and we get it.


We understand how easily it is to be caught up in a hundred little things which, in the end, are just trifles. It’s not an altogether new issue. People have always loved distractions — or diversions, as Pascal calls it. It’s just that the air seems thicker now.


Deceived and Deceiving


And we lie. Human beings are weasels. One researcher claims that the average person tells a lie one out of every five interactions. This study, which broke ground a couple years ago, says that all this lying amounts to us being lied to between 10–200 times daily. Again, this is not really news. Lying has flourished since the fall. But there is something to note about the accessibility of information we experience now.


If lying is a pervasive issue of humanity’s sinful nature, and people are saying more things publically now than ever, then we probably shouldn’t believe everything we hear. And most don’t. Partial-truth, spinned-truth, no-truth — it’s expected, and almost tolerated. Almost. Faking a bomb threat to dodge a final exam will still get you into trouble. And at least some of the baseball players who lied about steroids have faced consequences.


Deluded with Self-Obsession


What about self-absorption? Well, we are in a narcissism epidemic. Again, this has already been said several times. Secular journalists have already warned us about the consequences of popular self-obsession. And again, this isn’t completely new to our times — it’s just that narcissism has never had so much technology at its fingertips. “Selfie” becoming the word of the year didn’t happen out of nowhere, and like Geoffrey Nunberg writes, “When we look back on 2013, we’ll recall this not just as the year when everybody was posting pictures of themselves on social media, but as the year when nobody could stop talking about it.”


Overall, this distractedness, dishonesty, and self-centeredness work together to qualify a general lack of direction. Unprecedented in American history, 36% of the Millennial generation (and mostly men) still live with their parents, an important study by Pew Research shows. And while there are some decent explanations to account for this change, undoubtedly fewer adults would live with their parents if they had somewhere else to go — if they had a career, or a spouse, or any focus besides Halo that could wake them up from their domestic hibernation.


So warrior instinct is not in vogue. It’s increasingly rare, and therefore more and more precious. When its witness in society is diminishing so quickly, we should keep our eyes peeled for those institutions and practices that promote it, albeit imperfectly. This especially means football.


There is something wonderfully refreshing about this sport. How many other places are there where we can go to watch squads of eleven men at a time line up for a unified purpose? It’s offense or defense. You’re either working together to advance or stop an advance, all under the authority of a play clock that reminds you time is a limited resource. There’s a strategy for which each team member on the field must buy in. Every play requires undivided focus. You can’t check your newsfeed while you’re listening for the captain’s cadence.


Football is also a game without guile. Not only are there rules to which players must abide, but there are seven officials meticulously placed on the field of play who enforce these rules. You only score touchdowns or stop touchdowns if you do it the right way. Where else do we get this? Cooperative aggression. Combative fraternity. The game is almost like a dream come true in a world full of so much fluff and façade — in a world that manipulates words as masks to hide behind rather than couriers of truth. You don’t wear shoulder-pads to hide behind them; you employ their protection precisely because hiding is not an option, even on the quarterback slide.


Football is also a team game that demands individual practice. Every player has a specific role that, when executed properly, leads to team achievement. And that proper execution is the result of extreme training. Behind every move of every player is hours of work — of drills and sweat and pain — that ultimately targets one thing: team wins. Seriously. Make no mistake about it. Integral to football is real, tangible moments when personal comfort yields to a greater cause. The team wins because the team members sacrifice. They wear out their bodies for something bigger than their pain.


What other cultural entertainment shows us this? Where else do we find this warrior instinct on display? Of course, sinful distortions in the heart of man taint this ideal. But this is the design, and in order for football to work, this character must be in motion. The sport requires this kind of man, or at least a semblance of him. And I think that’s a good thing. It’s remarkable that God’s common grace provides this picture to engrain itself in a people’s pastime. But there’s even more for the Christian.


Speaking of focus, we Christians know one who embodied it perfectly — who came into this world for one purpose and set his face like flint until it was accomplished. We know one who was himself the truth — who committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. We know one who sacrificed — who though he was rich, yet for our sake became poor and sweat tears of blood, enduring the greatest agony because something even greater was set before him. We know Jesus, you see.


Jesus is the standard of warrior instinct — of undivided, straightforward, sacrificial focus for good. Which means, Jesus is the true and better football player. And while we are here, knowing him and making him known, it’s nice to have this game around.

The Greatest Blessing Mary Received


Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! (Luke 1:42)


Mary was unique in human history. It is absolutely true. She was “blessed among women” (Luke 1:42), and among men as well. She received the singular holy gift of being the mother of our Lord (Luke 1:43). God dwelled inside of her body in human form. Then he lived in her home and was under her care until adulthood.


The mystery woven into Mary’s calling as Jesus’s mother has tempted some to attribute near divine status to her and worship her. It was a temptation from the very beginning, even when Jesus was still walking the earth. We get a glimpse of this when a woman in a crowd shouted out to Jesus, “Blessed is the womb that bore you, and the breasts at which you nursed” (Luke 11:27)!


We don’t know exactly what was in this woman’s mind when she said this. But the human heart, which makes idols out of almost anything, can easily progress from considering a womb blessed by Jesus’s presence (which it was) to believing that the womb must have somehow been worthy of such a blessed presence (which it was not).


Jesus knew the woman’s line of reasoning was dangerous. So he responded to her, “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it” (Luke 11:27–28)!


Do you see the guarding grace in Jesus’s response? In a single sentence he was protecting Mary’s true blessedness and protecting us from idolatry — if we listen to him. The blessing is not in bearing the Son, it’s in believing the Son. The blessing is not in caring for the Word of God made flesh (John 1:14) but in keeping the Word’s word.


Gabriel told Mary that she had “found favor with God” (Luke 1:30). Certainly bearing and raising the Christ Child was an incredible favor. But it was not the greatest favor God bestowed on Mary — not by a long shot. Though he gave Mary a completely unique calling, the most important way God favored her is the same way he favors you and me and all his children.


The biblical canon nowhere teaches that Mary was sinless. She was not immaculately conceived. Like us, she “was brought forth in iniquity” (Psalm 51:5). Unless God did something to remove her sin, his wrath would have remained on her like any other fallen human.


This means that God’s favor on Mary was unmerited. The grace he showed to her was of staggering proportions, and I’m not even referring to her calling as the mother of The Child. The greatest blessing Mary received was that her Child saved her from her damning sins (Matthew 1:21) so that he could bring her to God (1 Peter 3:18) — the same blessing that is given to everyone who believes in him (John 3:16).


That’s why Jesus directs our attention away from Mary, whom he loved, to his Word in Luke 11:28. He wants our attention on the gospel he came to proclaim: the free gift of eternal life (Romans 6:23) to all who believe in him (1 John 5:13). Mary’s vocational calling as the mother of Jesus was a great blessing, but it was nowhere near the blessing of having her sins paid for by the fruit of her womb.


God was “Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14) to Mary in a way no one else has experienced and in that way she was “blessed among women.” But the most important way God dwelled with Mary was the same as he dwells with all his children: through faith (Ephesians 3:17).


So as we ponder Mary’s experience this Christmas, let us join her relative, Elizabeth, and say of her: “blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord” (Luke 1:45). Because God’s greatest blessing is given to those who believe him.