We stood between the door and the waitstaff podium in the packed restaurant. The waitress left to see if she had a table for two. We heard the door open, and a senior adult couple came in from the cold, also looking for a table.

“We could share that table over there,” the gentleman said.

We planned to enjoy a meal, just the two of us, which does not happen so often, even if we are long-time empty nesters. We looked at each other, having never experienced such a forward suggestion from strangers. 

We agreed that we would be glad to share a table.

John and Dawn, both 86, outlived their first spouses. While in town for a doctor’s visit, they stayed with Dawn’s sister. She wore a small bandage on her nose, nothing quite the size of the first one. They both laughed as they talked about it. 

Patty asked how they met. He got a big grin. She told us she was a music teacher, mainly piano, though she could play nearly any stringed instrument. John had called and asked if she taught adults. Dawn replied that she did. They shared that he came for one lesson and never went home. We all laughed.

Ten years. Five years. Maybe they had been married somewhere in the middle. But, it was clear they enjoyed one another’s company, and neither had met a stranger. He began telling a story he had learned from her first marriage. It seems Dawn and her late husband were traveling in Italy or Greece. That part is fuzzy. They happened upon a church. Entering the building, they discovered the cleaning person. Seeing the organ, she asked the lady if she could play. “Yes,” she was told. “The regular organist had been sick.” 

Dawn played for more than an hour. By the time she finished, she said the church was packed. She later learned that the cleaning person had been calling all her friends, maybe even those who regularly attended worship there, and that was the crowd that filled the building.

I could not help but think of stories my Mom tells about me. Our family regularly vacationed at Lake Taneycomo between Branson and Forsyth, Missouri. Barely walking and talking, she told me I had met every other guest before everyone was settled into their cabins and knew where they came from. She said, I never met a stranger. 

John knew no strangers. The self-described Yankee from Northern Indiana prided himself on his levity and engaging personality. 

We all left and headed in different directions. We went home, and they returned to Dawn’s sister’s house. They would get up this morning and drive 6-8 hours to their home in the mountains, where John told us all he had to do was fish and cut rocks. “There is no grass!” I’m still laughing at that one.

On the way home, Patty and I talked about our lunch dates. We wondered what we might be like in another couple of decades. Would we ever be so forward as to invite ourselves to share a table with strangers so we do not have to wait for a table? Maybe one day someone will leave our company and think like we did yesterday,

“We are strangers no longer.”

After sharing a meal with a couple we had never met, we are better off today. We are now left looking for more moments of serendipitous joy. 

Keep an eye open for your opportunities.

The post We Can Share That Table Over There first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Today, we discuss a collection of essays Marty has put in book form. Inspired by a piece of art by Banksy and the discovery of an appropriate word in a Thesaurus, Marty draws out a more profound sense of the Christian adage, “in the world but not of the world.”

Maybe you grew up in the era where the exhortation of Christian piety came wrapped in the phrase we are to be in the world but not of the world. If so, you have likely also grown to understand that the expression entails something more important, a reality that cuts both directions.

What does it mean to be in? What does it mean to be not of? Indeed, it is more than an adult’s charge to avoid adolescent temptations. Yet, no one talked about what this might mean for the human pursuit of power. Take, for instance, Marty’s essay titled Evangelicals in the Room When It Happens. Too many have opted for a form of power in the world masked by a claim to be not of the world.

We hope that by the end of the conversation, you want one of these pocketbooks in your back pocket and on your mind as you assess the issues on the ground that may matter differently when the question arises from within the scope of Scripture. Put another way, if we claim that the Bible gives us the Story of God, what do we do within that story to reflect the character of God when we consider issues and ideas in our day?

The post Marty Duren and The Disparate Ones first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

It was not uncommon for my parents to head to Beverly’s after church when we were young. A group of their friends would gather at an old location at the intersection of May and Northwest 16th Street with kids in tow. For what seemed like hours to us they talked and ate, ate and talked. 

Today, the only Beverly’s in Oklahoma City, that I know of, is located across from Integris Baptist Hospital. Recently I took Dad there for breakfast before going to see Mom. Two of the waitstaff came over to get our drink orders – coffee and water.

After they returned, they took our orders:

Q: What’ll you have?
A: We will both have the Messy Plate

I don’t know if Beverly’s offered a Messy Plate for breakfast back in the day. But, we could have split the meal. 

We were served by two people, not just one. “She’s in training,” said the more mature of the two. The younger woman followed closely and observed the manner and the pattern of her trainer. Following what she had observed, the young woman kept tabs on our table ready to ask what we might need.

More coffee?
Water?
Need anything else?
I will get your check.

The late Dallas Willard described discipleship as an apprenticeship to Jesus. Much like the young lady keeping an eye on the one assigned to train her. It is not unlike what Jesus said in John’s Gospel,

 Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father^[a] does, the Son does likewise. The Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing; and he will show him greater works than these, so that you will be astonished. (John 5:19-20)

Most of us forget that there were no manuals to read, only lives to watch. No Christian Publishers. No Christian Bookstores. Naturally, it could get messy since the lives we watch come with a less-than-perfect example. But, that does not reduce the need for both those who will live faithfully and those looking for the faithful. 

By God’s Spirit, we will keep our eyes on Jesus – the Author and Completer of our Faith.

The post Beverly’s Messy Plate first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Our Sunday Bible Study group was busy discussing the distinctions between betrayal and rebellion. We are working our way through the late Rober Jensen’s, Conversations with Poppi. Solveig had remarked to her Poppi that both God and Jesus had been betrayed. We were working through the story of Judas and the cobbled-together references to Satan, the Adversary, Lucifer in the Bible.

Suddenly we heard a boom and the lights went out across our three buildings. Gerald, quickly remarked that a transformer blew. He had worked for an electric power company and now does contract work. Gerald left the room to see what he could find out.

On my way to our Worship area to assess what we would need to do, I met one of our ladies. Her brother had died the week prior. When thinking out loud about whether or not we thought we would be able to worship together amidst the darkness, she said,

We will be alright.

We brought out the candles. Our Worship Team went into acoustic mode. We armed young people with lights to help folks find a seat. We left the Foyer doors open to get as much natural light in the building.

Gerald reported back. 

Two geese had flown into the power lines adjacent to our property and blew the fuse. 

You read the correctly. Two geese. They were lying in the middle of the road. Glenn dispatched them to our dumpster. I had contacted the power company. Gerald expected it would take a couple of hours to get a crew out to correct the problem. 

Amid the candle-lit room, we began our time of worship. It would be an exaggeration to compare it to worship in the catacombs, but oddly enough, in a day where a worship service is measured in decibels and theater, many enjoyed the lack of a sound system and the screens filled with lyrics. Our Worship Team handled the change well. 

We cut out some aspects of worship and kept it simple. Songs and sermon. Not a few minutes into the sermon time the lights began to come on here and there. The sound system came back on. The air conditioners began to whir. I was handed my mic. We carried on without missing a beat.

That Sunday, July 14, marked our 30th anniversary at Snow Hill. We have had many firsts. Most of them are not mentioned in pastoral ministry classes in college or seminary. At one point in our worship time, Rusty introduced a song by remarking that they had planned the morning a bit differently but that given the circumstances we would still sing a song that has meant much to me since I was in the third grade – Redeemed.

Rusty, who has served at Snow Hill for 17 years, conveyed that Snow Hill has been a place of love and joy. Sure, like most congregations we have had our times of grief and loss, of struggle and discouragement. But along the way, we knew and know what it was to be the people of God together. 

The unexpected first? 

Geese.

Our expected response. 

Together in Christ.

We are grateful that Snow Hill has been a place of love, growth, forgiveness, and promise. 

We look forward to more firsts.

* This piece has been percolating. Since July 14 we have experienced the death and funeral services for three folks. On top of that, the laptop on which I work has been in the shop for a week waiting for a new battery. Before heading out to do some yard work, I wanted to get this note finished.

The post A Day of Firsts first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

“I am the preacher who preaches after the preacher who preached after the preacher who has already preached.”

Knowing Rick, he made that observation during the service and thought it might be a moment of levity. It was.

I am the interviewer who interviewed after the interviewers who have already interviewed. But, I may have read the book before the interviewers who have already interviewed.

Last year Jason called and said, “Hey, would you want to make a trip to the Boundary Waters, BWCA, with Tony Jones?” “Sure.” 

One of the prerequisites before arriving in Minneapolis was to read the pre-publication manuscript of The God of Wile Places. We would have conversations around the book over evening campfires or as we took turns paddling with Tony, our guide. 

We cobbled together a group and last September we undertook a trip for which I thought I was prepared but was not. If you have never portaged a canoe over at least one portage trail of over 1000 feet of rock and mud, uphill then downhill, while carrying a 60lb pack, then you would not have been ready either. I had never portaged anything before.

And, I have never written a book and wondered how it would turn out. Friends liken it to birthing a baby though I would expect a mother or two would object. But, like birthing a baby, there is the working and waiting to see how your nurtured child fares as he or she grows.

I half apologized to Tony for the late arrival to the podcast marketing team.

“We are in month two.”

“Crickets,” he said.

The delay of this interview is not strategic. If Tony is counting on my little part of the Interwebs to rocket sales in month two, he will likely be sorely disappointed. 

But you, dear reader and listener will not be.

Tony gives me about an hour to talk around his book. Yes, around and of course about. What I mean is that I want you to both listen to the interview, buy the book, and purchase the audiobook. I don’t want to give the book away to you in the interview.

If there is a teaser, this is it: If you must choose a format, go with the audio. There is nothing like hearing a person’s story in their voice. I don’t know which format produces more for the author, but you will thank me after listening.

Why? Like Tony, all of us have been pigeonholed for one decision or another, for one rumor or another, for one doctrinal position or another. Often without a conversation. For example, when D.A. Carson published the book, Becoming Conversant with Emergentbut refused to have a conversation with those he condemned. 

Take a listen.

For those still unsure, even demotivated by my little intro, let me give you this one: Tony may have headed into the woods but he has not left Jesus behind.

The post The God of Wild Places first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Those who know me know I am a talker. The corollary is that I tend to process my thinking out loud. Now you know why posts are sometimes infrequent and my podcast frequency is worse.

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My penmanship is terrible. Were my maternal grandmother alive, she would be pounding the Like Button. I don’t recall if it was my senior year of high school or my freshman year of college. I had to type a paper for an assignment. Nan, as we called her, offered to type it for me. I dropped it off to her. When I returned to pick it up, she said she would gladly do that again for me but never to leave her a draft with such poor penmanship. 

Lesson learned. 

I never took her another draft. Period.

Who has time to improve their penmanship at that late date?

Nan had great penmanship. She never sent a birthday card or anniversary card without including a handwritten note. Hallmark could never capture all that she wanted to say. The handwriting in her journals is a work of art.

My first podcast of the new year is not about perfect handwriting. It is about letter writing. Specifically, my new virtual friend Curtis Freeman wrote Pilgrim Letters: Instruction in The Basic Teaching of Christ. Curtis wanted to talk to his son about faith in Jesus Christ. His son was unsure he was ready for that kind of conversation. Curtis asked his son if he could write him some letters. The result? Pilgrim Letters.

We all may know someone who prefers to communicate the more serious and particular things of life by handwriting a note. I do. If you do, then you will find my conversation with Curtis helpful. You may even pick up Pilgrim Letters and Pilgrim Journey: Instructions in the Mystery of the Gospel. 

Enjoy.

The post When Your Pen Pal Is Your Son first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

As a Royal Ambassador, I will do my best to become an informed, responsible follower of Christ, 

the pledge began.

I don’t know if it was by intention, but our bus passed Big Mac, the State’s maximum security prison that opened in 1908. Tall fences and razor wire. Signs that read, “Don’t pick up hitchhikers. They may be escaped prisoners,” warned passersby. If you had thoughts of misbehavin’, that would prompt you to think again. 

One of the first tasks at camp was the swim test. I had been swimming for quite some time. Summers would find us often at Will Rogers Park’s swimming pool. But this was a new pool and a new setting. The short story is I failed the test. What that meant was that my water activities were restricted. I could canoe for my water sport.

My experience canoeing at Camp Hudgens prepared me for my first trips floating the Illinois River. We often went so late in the summer that we would end up carrying, what I have recently learned is akin to portaging, over sandbars. Over time, and due to a lack of canoeing experience by those floating the river, most companies now provide 6-8 inflatable rafts to float the river in. 

It has been at least twenty years since I paddled a canoe. I am hoping it is like riding a bike. The memories came to mind in anticipation of an upcoming canoeing trip. 

During the evenings, we will chat over an open fire. We will share conversations over at least two books. One of the suggested readings is Hartmut Rosa’s The Uncontrollability of the World. Our guide has quite a sense of humor. All but two of us have never taken this excursion. It will surely leave us feeling out of control.

What the outdoor experience in an unfamiliar place will mean is that we will be subject to wonder and surprise. Reading Rosa, a sociologist, left me thinking of my first trip to the Colorado Mountains. To say I was overwhelmed by the visual effects during the drive would be an understatement. Oklahomans may pride themselves on living in a State with every topographical feature, but Mount Scott does not compare to Pool Table, much less the 14ers we drive by on our trips to the Southern Slope. 

Our church is located on what is considered the highest point in Grady County, but it is nowhere near the near 8400+ feet at Wagon Wheel Gap. We have large elm trees, but nothing compares to the tall pines, cottonwoods, and aspens. I have fly fished the Lower Mountain Fork River, but it is nothing like getting in the Rio Grande.

We will not make a trip to Colorado this year. But the mountains are always calling.

Wonder and Surprise.

Rosa makes the case that human attempts to control the world result in the loss of wonder and surprise. It led to this tweet after reading the bit in the photo above.

The difference between learning in wonder and surprise [is} that [it} makes a subject resonate with the learner{.} {A}nd a system intent to control outcomes and diminish wonder as performative measurements rob the learner of [both} wonder and surprise.

I could not help but carry over some of Rosa’s theses and ideas and think about our processes of Christian Education, discipleship. How often have we robbed young people of wonder and surprise by demanding particular performative outcomes and pathways that stunted or aborted the transformation that comes with the wonder and surprise of the Gospel? What if our personal fears of losing control have led us to diminish their imaginations and their wrestling with the great themes of God’s self-giving, other-directed love? 

Maybe I will have more once I finish the book.

For now, I remain confident that we cannot control the Spirit. There is still hope.

The post Wonder and Surprise first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Maina Mwara describes his recent book as a project that called him. And after our conversation, I wondered if Howard Hendricks could be described as The Reluctant Mentor. Not resistant but reluctant. 

Mentoring hit the craze level some years ago in Christian leadership circles. Books on mentoring, how to be a mentor, and successful mentoring became the rage. I recall receiving a free book or two at a conference on the subject. The desire to be a mentor has a dark side. It feeds a nascent narcissism that may be latent in all of us. “You need to listen to me.”

Like Hendricks to those who saw him as their mentor, my mentors have not self-identified as such. I have recognized they are my mentors. The relationship developed into a mentoring relationship. Rick did not tell me one day as Darth told Luke, “I am your mentor.”

Reluctant does not mean resistant. Influential does not always mean intentional. Relationships predicated on a contractual arrangement seldom reach the depths of mentoring relationships. And lack of intention does not mean accidental. Christian discipleship is organic, not programmatic. “Don’t pluck the weeds lest you pluck the wheat also.” Time and interactions are the soil in which mentoring relationships emerge.

Howard Hendricks’s story as an influential mentor rises from within an uncomfortable context, reaching diverse people, and results in an investment that yet survives his short sojourn. Remember, no matter how long we live; it is like a vapor.

Pick up a copy and observe what it means to be an influential mentor. You don’t need a program. You only need an interest in people.

The post An Influential Mentor first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Mark Driscoll famously attacked deconstruction, or Deconstruction, with the caricature that the goal is to reduce everything to its nub so it may be dismissed. He used the schtick to strike fear in those who dared question what they had been taught, particularly at Mars Hill. 

We all know how that turned out. Just this week, I listened to a sermon where Driscoll was the illustration for the need to deconstruct what preachers say. “God hates sin and the sinner.” It is as if the Serpent returned upon hearing that “God so loved the world” and whispered in the congregation’s ear, “Did Jesus really say he loved the world?”

My friend Greg Hortin joins me for another conversation on deconstruction, or Deconstruction. When we listen to policymakers and elected officials, how do we discern what they are saying, or not, with the words they choose? This has become important in Oklahoma, given the rhetoric of our State School Superintendent and his constant use of “woke ideology.” Listeners need to interrogate the language – that is, deconstruction or Deconstruction.

The post Interrogate the Language first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

*Greg suggested a warning that he uses salty language in our conversation. Some editing has been done. Other words remain.

The post #DEI and Indoctrination?! with Greg Horton first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

It’s hard on a preacher to sweat.

Jerry and Beth lived across the street from the parsonage on OK 5 in Gould, Oklahoma. We became fast friends in the short time we lived in southwest Oklahoma. Late-night card games and an occasional offer to learn another aspect of farm life were commonplace. One day while riding to take up the task of hauling hay, Jerry told me,

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It is hard on a preacher to sweat.

His wry smile betrayed his seriousness. Jerry is a natural comedian.

Chopping cotton. Hauling hay. Cutting calves. All sweat-producing activities, especially in the river bottom! I concluded the work was harder than the sweat.

Thorns and thistles it shall bring forth.

Fast forward more than thirty years. Last December a group of us began laying out a new disc golf course on floodway land owned by the City of Tuttle. The center of the floodway is heavily wooded and has been subject to at least a couple of ice storms over time. Not far east of the small waterway that runs through the trees is the largest cottonwood tree I have ever seen. More near the creek bed are other trees that soar skyward. 

Our first workday presented a challenge. Nearly everywhere we turned to work, we found a green thorny vine. We wrapped a chain around some 20-30 vines hanging from a single tree and pulled them down with a tractor. We had gloves but not the sort that would withstand the skin-piercing thorns.

We faced these vines down when taking out barbed wire, dead trees, and other debris in the lanes we plan to use as fairways. 

Last week we worked to remove another section of barbed wire. The thorny vines we have come to despise wrap around small trees, t-posts, and bois d’arc posts. I was working to remove a section of vines so the fellows following me could remove the barbed wire. One vine was tight, and when I cut it, it flung back toward my face. I ducked but not soon enough. One of the thorns caught my cheek. Bill, working near me, told me I was bleeding. Timmy told me I was bleeding. Brett wondered what had happened. 

I wiped the blood with the back of my gloves and the sleeve of my coveralls. Finally, I decided that it would just have to stop on its own. It did not hurt. It just looked like I had been battling Rambo.

Good Thorny Vines?

All of us working in the woods have talked about what we can do to rid the area of these thorny vines. I took to the Google Machine that afternoon. The best I can tell is we are dealing with greenbrier. 

While reading how to get rid of greenbrier, I learned some things about the nuisance. It has some good qualities. For instance, if you get lost in the woods and happen on to greenbrier, the soft end of the vine is safe to eat. The vine produces berries for deer and, birds, even humans. One reason the vine seems to be everywhere? Berry seeds end up working their way through the animals and deposited, well, on the ground.

There is another reason for their spread. Greenbrier is a rhizome. Here in our part of the country, we call another rhizome Bermuda grass. Think of working your flower beds in the summer. You have watered your flower bed and see these shoots of green reaching toward the moist ground; these are stolons. We have a dirt border between our flower bed and yard. Occasionally we will see a Bermuda shoot in our flower bed and wonder how this happened. The roots of Bermuda are doing what rhizomes do. They run just under the surface of the ground, putting out grass shoots along the way.

Greenbrier, a rhizome, does the same thing. The roots run below the surface of the ground and produce vines that shoot up out of the ground and grow toward the sun. Greenbrier will grow upward until it reaches something above it. Once it finds a low-hanging branch or a t-post, it will begin winding its way upward. We have pulled vines from trees up to 30’ in the air!

Maybe we will thin the greenbriers.

Rather than kill out all the greenbriers, we may thin the vines by thinning the roots. Speculating here, but it seems like the thorns protect the vine from being eaten too soon, allowing it to grow both leaves and the tender shoots that become food and produce berries in its season. Birds still need food. Deer will likely run the waterway in search of water and food in the safety of the woods. Maybe a hungry disc golfer will need a snack. They can dig up the root for another snack option if the berries are not present. 

We will have to be more careful in trimming the greenbrier, but we may not want to affect the habitat to run off the animals and deprive the humans. Snakes are another story. We hope we have stirred their habitat enough they will move on when Spring comes.

Who would have thought that we may need to learn to live with thorns and thistles, given our tendency to be wild ourselves. 

Human relationships may mean that we will occasionally run into a thorny vine. We may find the benefits of friendship we never imagined possible with grace and patience. 

I have.

Here is another way to keep up with more of my current writing, as sporadic as it may be,

The post Rambo’s First Blood? Nah, Merely a Flesh Wound first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Pastors, at least seminary-trained pastors, learn to discern the genre of the text under consideration. Reading the Psalms? It is helpful to be aware of how Hebrew Poetry works. If we simply say it is poetry, we Americans may look for rhyme and meter. We won’t find it there. Reading Ezekiel or Revelation requires a different nose for interpretation than what is called for in the books of Samuel, Kings, or Chronicles. 

What happens when we pastors read articles covering religion and forget to consider whether the piece is a news story or an opinion piece? That answer: plenty.

Today’s edition of Patheological is apropos. If we cannot distinguish genres when we read English articles, then our communication is doomed. Worse, our reactions may betray Christian decorum.

Maina Mwaura joins me for a conversation on religion reporting, religion journalism, in the current cultural milieu.

We specifically discuss the changes that contribute to more tribalism not less and reveal more suspicion not less. You may be interested to hear Maina’s observations leading to the annual meeting of the SBC in Anaheim and the discussion over at least one potential Presidential candidate.

Maina Mwaura hails from Orlando, Florida, and is a graduate of Liberty University, where he earned his Bachelor of Science in Communications. He also received his Masters of Divinity Degree from New Orleans Theological Seminary, in New Orleans, Louisiana. He has conducted over 300 interviews with some of Chrisitianity’s top leaders.

If you find the podcast helpful, share it with your friends. Share it with your pastor friends as well as folks you know involved in leadership that touches on the pastoral. Also, consider heading over to iTunes, login, search for patheological and give us a five-star rating and a kind review.

The post It’s an Op Ed! first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

From my latest Can We Talk?

Last month I was invited to do a breakout session for the Mockingbird Tulsa Conference. The theme was The Kindness of Grace. Father Everett told me the theme was an omage to Ted Lasso. Today’s post is the content of that talk. If you prefer listening, here is a link to the talk, Pastoring, Lasso, and Grace.

The post Pastoring, Lasso, and Grace first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

From my recent Substack, Can We Talk?

Taken together, these two events, the question I received in Tulsa and Marty’s trolls, led me to reformulate Voltaire’s speculation regarding Southern Baptists.

“One hundred years from my day, there will not be a Southern Baptist on earth except one that is looked upon by an antiquarian curiosity-seeker.”

Museum pieces.

The post Museum Pieces first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

From my latest Substack newsletter, Can We Talk?

He gestures toward the images adorning the ceiling: “I paint all this suffering, but I do not suffer myself. I make a living of it.” Franz, too, looks up, knowingly, it seems, but says nothing. The painter continues, his face half in the shadow. “What we do is just create sympathy. We create . . . admirers. We don’t create followers.” (p.8)

I fear we have contributed to creating admirers.

Admirers are different than followers.

The post Too Many Claiming Christ Are Just Admirers first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Apply this to the claim that Christians owe no one anything despite the Apostle Paul’s ethical position. It should be easy to see that American Democracy defended by those who fail to read and employ Scriptural ethics imperil both our Country and Christian Witness. 

Christian Witness cannot survive the failure to read.

The post A Threat to Democracy? first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

If you are like me, growing up in a Southern Baptist Fundamentalist version of the Christian Faith, any reference to anything in the Bible as myth raised a red flag. It was probably worse than that. For many, it still is.

Recently a friend sent a version of the essay, “What are We to Make of Jesus Christ?”, from God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics by C.S. Lewis. The lede, which is different than in my copy, gets the mythical ball rolling,

“Now the story of Christ is simply a true myth: a myth working on us in the same way as others, but with the tremendous difference that it really happened.”

The post True Myth first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

My friend Tim once served as a Southern Baptist Youth Minister. He is now an Episcopal Priest. I never once thought that anyone should take a picture of him in his vestments, reading Scripture and giving Communion only to post them to Twitter. It is different when a former, famous Southern Baptist woman becomes a member of the Anglican Church of North America.

The post What is the obsession with Beth Moore? first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

The post The Great Dane Takes Us on a Walk first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.

Anyone listening to RFMH who thought, “This could never happen to me,” is ripe for the taking. I recall the episode where Driscoll was told he should look for a mentor. When someone mentioned John Piper Driscoll scoffed, “I can’t have a mentor whose church is smaller than mine!” Admittedly some of the details of the parable of the rich fool do not fit so well but if you don’t mind thinking of how Driscoll kept building bigger barns such as campuses/programs/publishing/persona/brand, Jesus words come to mind, at least to mine:

But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?”

The post What in the Mars Hill? first appeared on patheological: The Podcast for the Pastor-Theologian.