The Internet Monk Archives

Sundays with Michael Spencer: July 5, 2015

Still Life with French Novels and a Rose, van Gogh

For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written,”I will destroy the wisdom of the wise,
and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”

• 1 Corinthians 1:18-19

• • •

Every so often, someone will say something to me that implies I’m smart.

It might be mildly critical, as in “Spencer thinks he’s really smart. Look at those big words he uses.” Or “You know, if you are so smart, then you should…..” Fill in the blank with agenda of the speaker. I have people try to flatter me. “You’re a very smart person. How did you learn so much?” And so on.

I’ve told myself I’m smart, or at least smart-er than someone else, on more than a few occasions. For example, despite their training and expertise, major league umpires are almost always wrong in comparison to my observation of the same third strike pitch.

Actually, when it comes to claims of intelligence, I’m quite a skeptic. I’ve had professors that were world class and couldn’t stick to a simple syllabus or balance a checkbook. I’ve been around smart people who didn’t know how to bathe, comb their hair or change their shirt.

Intelligence doesn’t follow predictable paths. My dad had an 8th grade education and was one of the smartest people I ever knew, but he didn’t have the usual tools to express his intelligence. I have lots of students who are brilliant, but they don’t care about school or the subjects being taught. Where their interest lies, they are smart. When they are bored, they appear “slow.”

It makes a lot of sense to be modest in claims of intelligence. History is full of examples of science made foolish and fools proven wise. Without questioning the value of intelligence and human wisdom, we can readily admit its limitations, especially in our own cases. In other words, the longer you live, the more examples of should have accumulated of the fragile nature of anyone’s claims to be truly wise, starting with yourself.

I love the passage in 1 Corinthians where Paul says God is out to destroy the “wisdom of the wise.” If that’s not enough to make you think twice about being told you are “smart,” I’m not sure what it would take. Over and over again, scripture says that intelligence as an autonomous foundation isn’t going to get to the real truth. No, scripture has the audacity to say that God is revealing to relative dummies what the world’s wise men won’t ever know.

At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” (Matthew 11:25-27)

Ouch.

Of course, the critics of religion immediately take this sort of post as evidence of the evil of glorifying ignorance. It’s no such thing, of course. I’ll admit that religionists of all types have a mixed record on the subject of the benefits of knowledge, but then it might be the case that someone needs to notice the exponential correlation between how smart we are and what terrible things we do to one another.

By all means, learn all there is to know. Have at it. God gave you the intellect, the curiosity, the senses and the world around you. Read. Study. Research. Think. Experiment. The accumulation of knowledge is part of our human business, dominion and stewardship.

The problem comes when we don’t see our knowledge in relationship to God. If you want to be stupid, the Bible says, then assume that God has become the object of your intellectual abilities and will be cataloged, analyzed and explained by the smart guys. They’ll do their thing, and God will do his.

The Bible is full of experts whom God is refitting with humbled viewpoints. Be they Pharisees, philosophers or realists with no silly thoughts of religion, God is regularly finding ways to shurt them up and turn their conclusions into dust.

Here’s a favorite:

And he told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, “What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?” And he said, “I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” But God said to him, “Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” (Luke 12: 16-20)

f_0593 — Still Life: Vase with Oleanders and Books, van Gogh

I don’t think God minded at all that this fellow knew a lot about farms, money and buildings. I really don’t. But his announcement that God wasn’t in the picture earned him the name “fool.” In other words, the writer of Ecclesiastes was right to warn us that we fail to remember God at our own peril. Disallowing God from any of our calculations isn’t smart.

The conviction of my own intelligence has a predictable effect: I draw the circle of possible knowledge ever smaller. In other words, what I know for certain is certain because that’s all there is to know.

The skeptic declares there is no God, but hasn’t looked everywhere, perceived everything, received every possible piece of information, considered every possible option. Oh…..she has? Well, excuse me. I’ll just sit down here and be amazed.

The knowledge of God a Christian ought to claim should be the most humble kind of knowledge. Arrogance has no place in the faith of anyone who has received everything as a gift. Our “certainties” are a matter of the assurances of faith. We doubt ourselves. We admit our ignorance. And as Augustine said, we believe in order that we may understand.

So if any of us are actually intelligent, we can demonstrate it by humbling our minds before whatever truth we venerate– the Trinitarian God in my case– and admit that whatever light we have is only a glimmer of the light we can’t see. If the true light shines within us, it won’t register on any of the academic registers. It will be the reflection of the deepest, simplest, most beautiful truths that come to us as a gift, and its greatest evidence will be love, not intelligence.

In the second half of life, I intend to be less impressed with anyone’s intelligence, and more humbled by what I see in the lives of people who really do provide examples of a life well lived.

Saturday Ramblings, July 4, 2015

Hello, imonks, and welcome to freedom! Ready to Ramble?

Are you having Watermelon at your cookout this weekend? Need some pointers on how to cut that baby up? Here ya go:

Well, this is classy. The Milwaukee Art Museum will display a portrait of Pope Benedict XVI . . . made of condoms. The museum admitted it was trying to gain some free publicity with the side benefit of pissing off Catholics. Just kidding, of course: they claim it “will ignite a conversation about the AIDS epidemic in Africa and the role art plays in public discussions.” Oh. Yes. I’m sure it will.

Of course, they completely miss the irony. The New York Times this spring refused to run the Charlie Hebdo cartoons. The reason, they say, is that the do not want to offend religious people. The collective snort you heard then was from every honest reader of the Grey Lady. But even then non-snorters are snorting now. For the Times had absolutely zero problem with publishing the condom pope portrait.

Speaking of the Times, they published a long hit piece against Marco Rubio last month, in which they talked about his “luxury speedboat” and implied his house was lavish. Other journalists looked into this. Below is a picture of his “luxury speedboat”. Below that is a comparison of Rubio’s house (on the left) with Hillary Clinton’s.

Maybe the Times should steal the "fair and balanced" slogan from Fox — **Maybe the Times should steal the “fair and balanced” slogan from Fox**

Ken Ham’s Answers in Genesis web site is not a fan of the TV miniseries A. D., even though it’s about the Bible. “Theologically and historically, the writers of this show have been sloppy at best and calculatingly agenda-driven at the expense of Scripture at worst.” Man, this is like Madonna accusing Lady Gaga of being self-promoting and pretentious.

Gif of the week: “Must resist urge to kill…”

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings, July 4, 2015”

Which Way? Religious Conservatism at the Crossroads

Last week’s Supreme Court ruling [Obergefell v. Hodges] which found a constitutional right to same-sex marriage surprised few observers. Whether or not such a right can legitimately be derived from the Constitution, it seems impossible that the court would have voted the way it did had this case been brought before it 20 years ago. In other words, religious conservatives find the decision to be so troubling because it does not come out of the blue, but reflects the radically changing mores of our society. Like the trophy presentation after a sports championship game, it announces and formalizes what has already happened on the field of play. At least on issues of sexual morality within public policy, the religious conservatives have lost.

This column is not about the legitimacy of same-sex marriage. Rather, it poses a different question: In light of the defeat over same-sex marriage (which exemplifies defeats in similar areas of social concern), what should religious conservatives do?

Continue reading “Which Way? Religious Conservatism at the Crossroads”

Report from the desert (2): The golden hour

Photographers and cinematographers love “the golden hour” (sometimes called “the magic hour”). This describes the time of light right after sunrise and right before sunset. During these periods, the sun’s light is more diffuse and softer, bathing the world in a pleasing reddish-golden hue. I took the picture above yesterday at McDowell Mountain Sonoran Desert Preserve in Scottsdale, Arizona during the golden hour before sunset, and you can see the effect quite clearly.

In planning for taking pictures, I wanted to make use of the golden hour, especially here in the desert. In this environment the mostly cloudless, sometimes hazy sky casts a harsh bright light over everything during most of the daylight hours, making it difficult to achieve proper contrast and color saturation in one’s photographs. A polarizing filter helps, and one can always adjust pictures when processing them, but no photographer can do as well as what God did when he gave us the golden hour.

The golden hour reminds me that, even in the desert, there are times during the day when nature grants the world respite from the relentless burning sun and the almost colorless landscape its glare creates.

As I was hiking and taking pictures, I found that I eagerly awaited the moment when the sun reached the point in the sky that caused its rays to diffuse and turn the bland desert before me into a portrait of almost luminescent brilliance. And it was worth it. As the sun sank, every plant, rock, and geological feature became transformed into a technicolor wonder. I felt as though I had arrived in Oz. It was every bit as awe-inspiring as the hills of Vermont covered with the fluorescence of maple trees in October. It was like watching van Gogh’s austere early drawings and paintings suddenly burst forth into sunflowers and blossoming trees and parks and wheat fields, exploding with vibrant color and warmth.

It became a devotional moment, or hour, I should say. I couldn’t take pictures fast enough. A deep sense of joy filled me. The liturgy had begun and I became caught up in participating in it. It only lasted a short time, and then the sun began to sink below the horizon, now turning the sky into a vast canvas covered with fiery brushstrokes, as though the very color had lifted up from the earth and found a place of rest in the clouds.

As I drove out of the park, darkness was beginning to fall. I glanced over to my left, and there behind one of the peaks, I saw the hint of a huge full moon. I made a quick u-turn, went back to the park entrance, spotted the moon in perfect position over the mountains, and took several pictures. It was like hearing the choir sing an inspiring, peaceful “amen” to the service.

And then I heard the minister speak the words of dismissal: “In the midst of the desert of your life, there is grace in Jesus Christ. In the midst of the harsh realities of hunger and thirst, sin and death, Jesus has come to bring peace, abundance and life. Thanks be to God. Now we are free to go and bring his light to our world. Go in his grace.”

Thank you, Lord, for the golden hours. Enable me to shine that beautiful light on those around me who need to see it.

Report from the desert (1)

I’ve been here in the desert for a couple of days now. The temperature only strays below 100 degrees after the sun goes down, and soon makes its way back up there by around noon the next day. I don’t seem to be bothered much by it; in fact, I rather enjoy it, though I’ve not stayed outside for any considerable length of time.

It has been a time of mundane, daily life with family. We’ve shared meals together and sat around and caught up on what’s been happening in our lives. I’ve been a designated driver, taking my relative to the treatment center for chemotherapy, another to the eye doctor, running errands. I’ve had a few brief outings of my own during appointments and downtime when people needed rest.

Mostly, it feels a lot like what I do every day. My relative with cancer has been doing a tremendous amount of life review, and I’ve been a primary listener. I ask a lot of questions, provide supportive attention, and let him know I care. As is true with most of my daily work, I didn’t come to the desert with an agenda other than to be here and to be available.

Earlier today, he indicated that he wanted to do a few things and run some errands by himself, without my assistance. Fine by me. I didn’t come to take over or insist on being his caretaker. Later on, a few of the other family members gathered around the table after supper and talked. I didn’t feel a need to be there; in fact, I thought it probably would be better if I didn’t insert myself into the conversation at that time. They needed time to share stories with each other, to listen and laugh and reflect on their own experiences without my presence or participation.

I’m thankful for what I’ve learned over these past ten years working in hospice. I don’t have to be the center of attention. I don’t have to contribute something tangible or identifiable every moment. I can let go of thinking I can fix things or even that that is my job. I can listen without feeling I have to pass immediate judgment or give my opinion.

And yet at the same time, it feels like something is happening. Real communication is taking place. Love and concern and appreciation is being shared. Whatever “help” is, it seems to me that we are all experiencing being helped and feeling like we’re helping.

I know very little about desert ecosystems. Somehow, in the midst of all this heat and dryness, plants grow and flourish, animals find hydration and nourishment, and human beings come up with ways to make homes in the wilderness.

There is so much more to the story than the barren, unpromising surface. The quiet, relentless power of life advances, occasionally blossoms, and always wins out in the end.

Merton on Contemplation (2): Contemplative Prayer and Anfechtung

The climate in which monastic prayer flowers is that of the desert, where the comfort of man is absent, where the secure routines of man’s city offer no support, and where prayer must be sustained by God in the purity of faith. Even though he may live in community, the monk is bound to explore the inner waste of his own being as a solitary. The Word of God which is his comfort is also his distress. The liturgy, which is his joy and which reveals to him the glory of God, cannot fill a heart that has not previously been humbled and emptied by dread. Alleluia is the song of the desert.

• Thomas Merton
Contemplative Prayer, p. 1

• • •

Merton’s words about “dread” and “distress” reflect a very lutheran idea; Luther called it “anfechtung.” And this lies at the heart of contemplative prayer.

Merton’s concept of contemplation, at least here in the beginning of his book, is thoroughly evangelical. That is, it involves coming before God at the intersection of death and resurrection. In the prayer of the heart, I face forthrightly the fact and experience of my human exile and death under the power of sin, and then I rise with Christ into the full light of new creation. When Merton says, “Alleluia is the song of the desert,” this is what he means: Christian contemplative prayer involves taking an inward journey from the cross, through the tomb, and emerging into new life under the reign of the risen and ascended Christ.

Before the “Alleluia,” however, comes the “Anfechtung.”

An excellent overview of anfechtung may be found at the blog, Diapsalmata.

For Luther, the context of anfechtung fell nearer the “terrible dread” or “agonizing struggle” whose essence is doubt. This doubt is something fundamentally separate from the skepticism that pervades today. Indeed anfechtung owes its existence not to unbelief, but to faith itself. In other words, the more one believes in the great goodness of God, the more he is dismayed when he sees evidence of that goodness fall away. Had his faith been of a lesser degree, he might have avoided the effects of the questions that assail him. But since he has “left everything to follow” (Luke 18:28) he has nothing on which to fall. Thus the hallmark characteristic of anfechtung is a deep and pervasive sense of helplessness.

Anfechtung represents the dismal space between Law and grace, and the believer caught between them. Here it is that the Christian, freed through faith from the law of sin and death, now looks upon a world in which these elements resurrect with hellish clarity. He feels convicted by God, unapproved, and utterly cast out from His Presence. The prospect of a hopeless future hails before him, and hell itself rises to accuse. The flesh confronts, fellow Christians cajole, and nowhere can he find relief for his soul. The believer finds himself stranded in a place all where he has learned of Christ contradicts what he sees before him. He is lost and undone, and he looks upon a world that is lost and undone. Here he stands at the crossroads of two opposing poles: doubt and doxology.

One soul, one God, and the terrible chasm between them.

Luther himself wrote:

Living, dying, and being damned make the real theologian.

The real contemplative too.

Random thoughts on a Monday as I fly to Phoenix

There will be no posts on same-sex marriage this week. Don’t you think we all need a break from talking about it?

By the way, I know what’s going to happen now. You’re going to talk about it. But I really wish you wouldn’t. If I were king, whenever something like this happened, I would impose a moratorium on discussing it until the dust settles and we’ve all had a chance to think, pray, and check ourselves.

Here’s the weather forecast for Scottsdale, AZ, where I’ll be all week. Oh boy.

That makes me thirsty! I normally don’t care for summer beers too much. Usually a bit too lemony or citrusy for my taste. But I’ve found two that I really like:

Sierra Nevada Summerfest. This beer, brewed according to Czech tradition, lives up to its advertising as a “crisp” and refreshing lager.

New Belgium Skinny Dip. Another lager, a bit sunnier and fruitier than Summerfest, but still full bodied and invigorating.

What are you enjoying this summer?

And hey, Adam McHugh, feel free to give us your expert wine selections as well!

I’ve also been delighted to find that some of the kinds of music I used to enjoy as a kid in the summertime are still alive and well for me this year. Three great new summery albums that I have on my playlist are:

No Pier Pressure, by Brian Wilson. Like everything Brian Wilson has ever done, this album is a lush, bittersweet meditation on young hope, love, and loss. Amazingly, at 73 years old, he can still capture the feelings of sunset on the beach better than anyone in the world. He has a lot of younger artists helping him on this album, which adds a refreshing new twist to these classic-sounding tunes and lyrics.

Before This World, by James Taylor. It has been 13 years since JT released an album of original material, and this one is a solid, if mostly unsurprising, addition to his lengthy catalogue. A highlight for me is his inclusion of my favorite concert-closer, the old Scottish song, Wild Mountain Thyme.

The Traveling Kind, Emmylou Harris & Rodney Crowell. Their reunion album of 2012, the Grammy award winning Old Yellow Moon, was about as perfect a duet record as is possible, and this follow-up continues that satisfying partnership with another strong program of songs.

You must read the astonishing opinion piece by Nicholas Kristoff in the New York Times about Catholic missionary Dr. Tom Catena. Here’s how it begins:

If you subscribe to the caricature of devout religious believers as mostly sanctimonious hypocrites, the kind who rake in cash and care about human life only when it is unborn, come visit the doctor here.

Dr. Tom Catena, 51, a Catholic missionary from Amsterdam, N.Y., is the only doctor at the 435-bed Mother of Mercy Hospital nestled in the Nuba Mountains in the far south of Sudan. For that matter, he’s the only doctor permanently based in the Nuba Mountains for a population of more than half a million people.

Just about every day, the Sudanese government drops bombs or shells on civilians in the Nuba Mountains, part of a scorched-earth strategy to defeat an armed rebellion here. The United States and other major powers have averted their eyes, so it is left to “Dr. Tom,” as he is universally known here, to pry out shrapnel from women’s flesh and amputate limbs of children, even as he also delivers babies and removes appendixes.

And here is how it ends:

Certainly the Nubans (who include Muslims and Christians alike) seem to revere Dr. Tom.

“People in the Nuba Mountains will never forget his name,” said Lt. Col. Aburass Albino Kuku of the rebel military force. “People are praying that he never dies.”

A Muslim paramount chief named Hussein Nalukuri Cuppi offered an even more unusual tribute.

“He’s Jesus Christ,” he said.

Er, pardon?

The chief explained that Jesus healed the sick, made the blind see and helped the lame walk — and that is what Dr. Tom does every day.

You needn’t be a conservative Catholic or evangelical Christian to celebrate that kind of selflessness. Just human.

And here’s how I am after reading this piece: speechless.

Like I said, this week I will be in Scottsdale, basking (or is that baking?) in the beautiful Southwest.

This is more than a pleasure trip, however. One of my relatives is dealing with cancer and treatments right now, and my mom and I are flying out to spend some time with him. The journey may be more for us than for him — I’ve heard he has things pretty well under control — but perhaps we’ll be able to lend a hand and lighten the family’s burden a bit.

I will appreciate your prayers, and look forward to writing from a different location this week.

Finally, here is a lovely, prayerful song for you from the Gettys as you start the work week, one of the few Christian hymns to deal with the subject of our daily vocations. Note the lovely incorporation of Bach’s Wachet Auf as a complementary tune throughout.

Sundays with Michael Spencer: June 28, 2015

Paul made a lot of sin lists. You know, lists of sins.

If you’re a preacher or teacher, you’ve probably used Paul’s sin lists a few times as the raw material for a talk or sermon. You’ve walked through the list, one sin at a time and said a little something about each one. It may not have been the most interesting talk you ever did, but it took up some time and sin is always relevant, right?

Those lists can be pretty spectacular.

And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, 31 foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them. (Romans 1:28-32)

Comprehensive, that’s for sure.

But if the apostle were writing an epistle for the Christians like me and those I know, it would be good to get to some specifics that are really aren’t going to make the papers for sensational sins. No, the sins we need to be confronted about in my life and community are the sins that Christians have incorporated into their normal lives with unremorseful regularity. They won’t get you in jail. In fact, you can be up to your ears in these sins while you are doing all kinds of church work and professional ministry.

These are the sins we have quietly voted to accept. They’re OK. They have an exemption. They are either compatible with some version of what we think it means to be a Christian, or they are just so essential to the way we’ve decided to operate that we can’t really see them as wrong.

So I’m not an apostle, and I’m not the author of anything close to scripture. But I am a sinner, and I know my sins well enough to recognize them in Christian community, ministries and relationships.

1. Not keeping promises. Also known as a lack of integrity. You say you’ll do something. You promise to show up and do it, but you don’t. You find ways to avoid doing what you promised to do and you eventually find a way to quit. That usually needs a little God-talk to make it go down easier.

What about the promises you made your spouse? Are you keeping them? Your congregation? Your children? What about simple promises made in commerce or employment? In business and friendships? What about promises of service, generosity, support or leadership?

2. Lying. All shapes. All sizes. All kinds. All the time. Christians are exaggerators, prevaricators and simple liars. They lie and they excuse lying. They fault others for not believing the truth and they readily lie as quickly as anyone I’ve ever seen. Because it’s so much a part of the kind of communication that’s acceptable in Christian leadership, its rarely called out from the pulpit.

Lying is self-protection. It is the opposite of faith. We do it naturally and easily, and we are often afraid to do without it. We need others to believe the little lies we live on, and when they do, all is well. When they don’t….we become terrified that we’re going to be accountable, and then some of those spectacular sins in Romans 1 appear far more possible.

3. A lack of integrity. I’ve written on this before. I came to the point as an adult Christian that I couldn’t stand to look at myself on this issue. My moral character had holes in it. I manipulated all sorts of things to keep myself self from conviction. I was about 30% of what I appeared to be. I was miserable in my own skin. I hated to look myself in the eyes.

I repented of this life and I went on a journey to reclaim integrity. It’s not been easy…..mainly because being a person of integrity puts you into conflict with a large section of the Christian community.

Who honestly cares if my church lies about its membership numbers? Who cares if the story I just told came from a Google search? Who cares if I claim to have read a book when actually my assistants read it? Who cares if I do what my job description says I do? Who cares if I actually make those pastoral visits? Who cares if I take home office supplies?

This list can go on and on and on.

4. Cruel speech about those with whom we differ. I’ve say at lunch tables with fellow Christians who suggested we put gays on an island and bomb it. I’ve heard every lie about Obama out there repeated (and forwarded) by Christian people. I’ve heard Democrats called dozens of cruel and ridiculing names.

I’ve heard all of this excused as “Well listen to what they say about us,” as if Jesus explicitly taught us to retaliate when treated unfairly.

And what is the record of this sin as directed toward other believers with whom we have some minor disagreement or conflict? What have we given ourselves permission to say and do?

5. No grace for ordinary failure. Why is it the Christian who will predictably enforce the smallest rule to the nth degree, with no thought of mercy? Why do people who love “Amazing Grace” act as if grace is the opposite of everything we believe in when it comes to dealing with people?

Why do so many of us use guilt and manipulation, and then call it “grace?” It’s not. Why do we believe that Jesus’ stories about servants who were forgiven but refused to forgive don’t apply to us?

Why will it be the Christian kid whose parents expect perfection from him? Why is it the Christian student whose life has been micromanaged to the point of being “cruel and unusual?”

• • •

Yes, it’s a short list. I need to say some other things about other sins, and especially talk to those of us who are leaders. These are common in my life, in many lives and in many Christian communities. They are boring, because they are everywhere.

They are the sins that erode holiness, poison obedience, dilute character, produce phoniness and weaken communty.

If you are a young Christian, consider this: If you can walk away from these sins, you’ll be markedly different from many other Christians, and those who have had typical experiences will know you are different.

Or even better, make up your own list that fits you and your character. Start close to home, and see if you have a list of “sins for exemption” that needs to be thrown away.

Saturday Ramblings, June 27, 2015

Hello, imonks, and welcome to the weekend. Shall we Ramble?

small_shot_1954_Nash_Rambler — Really? The hood ornament is *optional*???

There is some annoyingly serious stuff we need to cover this week. So we will balance it with some weird, medieval paintings thrown in randomly. Not sure weird medieval paintings will lighten things up? They will if we give them some modern captions:

Continue reading “Saturday Ramblings, June 27, 2015”

Levi Nunnink: A Lutheran layman’s perspective on the Tullian Tchividjian scandal & Liberate

Note from CM: One of the interesting characteristics of evangelicalism is its Disney-like ability to take classic traditions and turn them into palatable fast-food for contemporary audiences. A smart evangelical pastor might be just one good J.I. Packer book away from planting a new “reformed” megachurch.

Tullian Tchividjian, of whom we wrote yesterday, who just resigned the pastorate of Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church, was becoming known as the “Lutheran” evangelical.

What do real Lutherans think about that?

Well, I found out by reading a wonderfully written, down-to-earth, funny and self-deprecating take on how the Tullian phenomenon and fall looks through Lutheran eyes that we’re happy to share with you today.

Levi Nunnink has penned “A Lutheran layman’s perspective on the Tullian Tchividjian scandal & Liberate.” [Note: “Liberate” is Tullian’s web resource and conference ministry, now shut down in light of recent events.] Levi graciously gave permission for us to re-post it here at Internet Monk, and I hope you’ll enjoy and learn from it as much as I did.

Continue reading “Levi Nunnink: A Lutheran layman’s perspective on the Tullian Tchividjian scandal & Liberate”