It appears we have a pretty intense food fight developing over Critical Race Theory (CRT). Lots of accusations are being thrown about. But that seems to be nearly unavoidable when disagreement arises over such an emotionally charged issue as race and how best to address the tensions that exist between us.
If you care to read the architects of Critical Theory—Benjamin, Horkheimer, Fromm, Adorno, Marcuse, etc.— you will find that their project was animated in large part by a desire to undermine Christianity and its moral and philosophical norms. They believed these norms inhibited the sexual and intellectual evolution of mankind. You will also find that many of these scholars coming out of the 1930s Frankfurt School considered Satan an important symbol of mankind’s empowerment and independence.
A few years ago, at the start of a new school year, I announced to the kids that we would be memorizing the book of James.
“The whole book?” one son asked, eyes wide with surprise.
“That’s the goal,” I responded.
“Impossible!” he declared.
Up to that point, my children had memorized single verses and short passages of Scripture. I thought it was time to take on something bigger.
Memorizing God’s Word
“Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and shall bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,” which translated means, “God with us.” (Matt. 1:23, NASB, 1977)
These are the words of Matthew immediately after he wrote, “Now all this took place that what was spoken by the Lord through the prophet might be fulfilled, saying” (Matt. 1:22). The “prophet” here refers to Isaiah. In Matthew 1:23, Matthew references aspects of Isaiah 7:14, 8:10, and 9:6. Those texts read as follows:
Some years ago, I took a Nazirite vow never to write on race in America. Yet, persuaded by the editorial team at First Things, I broke that vow. Now it is time to offer a brief reflection on some of the responses.
Three events this week have given me pause both for thought, nostalgia, and hope. The first was the arrival of an email on Thursday containing the memoir manuscript of a well-known Welsh Baptist pastor who served only one congregation in his ministry, and that for over fifty years. He asked me to read it with a view to offering a commendation, though he couched the request with comments about how busy I must be, and how many more important books I no doubt have to read. Read it with a view to commendation?
For the most part, Christians know that Jehovah’s Witnesses (JWs) are a cult and have some strange beliefs. But when they begin to talk about God and his Son, Jesus; when they ask about faith and salvation; when they use what appears to be a normal Bible; when they speak the “Christian language,” many believers don’t know how to respond. How do you share the gospel with them? Do you even need to? How can you keep from being distracted by all their secondary beliefs and caught up in ‘dead-end’ arguments?
We are rounding the curve into the reckoning phase.
When disaster strikes, people (or communities, or nations) often move through three stages: crisis triage, reckoning/ regrouping, and finally redirecting. Crisis triage looks like keeping the ship afloat and surviving till tomorrow. Shell-shocked faces try to cope in the immediate. Once people catch their breath, and the fight or flight adrenaline subsides, the mind can turn toward reckoning with the crisis and its aftermath:
Ayako Miura – From Disillusioned Nihilist to Christian Author
Bo Giertz – True Pastor and Insightful Writer
From Atheist to Pastor
Constancy is something every human being craves. Knowing that, in the midst of all the upheaval and change that marks the course of life, there are anchor-points that provide stability along the way. But where can we find such certainty?
John Calvin, the great French Reformer who devoted most of his ministry to the church in Geneva, ranks amongst the most influential theologians of all time. His legacy to the church – and, indeed to the world – goes far beyond what many realise. But out of the many aspects of his legacy there is one that stands out more than others that has probably been given less attention than it deserves and that is his emphasis on piety.
In the summer of 1536, promising young author John Calvin was traveling to Strasbourg to pursue a quiet life in academics. He spent one night in Geneva on his journey, where he was approached with an offer from a local minister, William Farel. Farel persuaded Calvin—under threat of God’s cursing—to join him in the reformational efforts at the Genevan church.
I remember the first time I saw John Calvin’s personal seal—an outstretched hand holding a heart—in a hallway on the campus of Calvin College, now University, in Grand Rapids.