Running With Jonah, Judas, or Darwin?

This past month the Desiring God Blog has been phenomenal.  Below are two of the posts that hit me square in the face, I pray they hit you too.

Running With Jonah

“Not called,” did you say?

“Not heard the call,” I think you should say. Put your ear down to the Bible, and hear him bid you go and pull sinners out of the fire of sin. Put your ear down to the burden, agonized heart of humanity, and listen to its pitiful wail for help. Go stand by the gates of hell, and hear the damned entreat you to go to their father’s house and bid their brothers and sisters and servants and masters not to come there. Then look Christ in the face — whose mercy you have professed to obey — and tell him whether you will join heart and soul and body and circumstances in the march to publish his mercy to the world.

Two things have always struck me about the famous quote from William Booth, founder of the Salvation Army. First is his politically incorrect preaching. His references to “pulling sinners out of the fire,” “hell,” and “the damned” have the smell of sulfur about them. True, it might be a bit outdated now, but each of those descriptors could come with a Bible reference. Yet Booth’s words are not filled with anger and arrogance — his words run with tears, not unlike his Savior who wept over dark Jerusalem.

The second thing that’s striking to me is that over a century ago Christians were waiting for “the call” before venturing out for the sake of the gospel. Not much has changed. We continue to add so much mystery to “the call” that it must be accompanied by a bolt of lightning, a voice from heaven, or multiple fleeces drenched with dew. No use moving from our comfortable, cul-de-sac Christianity if it’s not necessary, if it’s not clear, if we aren’t “called.”

Jesus says, “If anyone will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). So we already have a clear calling to begin with, and the specifics of what that looks like will follow in the path of radical obedience. God leads us in motion. In few other areas of life do we add such prerequisites to action.

To read the rest, click here.


Why Was Judas Carrying the Moneybag?

Jesus put a thief in charge of his moneybag. Has that ever struck you as odd?

Last week we focused at Mary, who poured a year’s wages on Jesus’s feet, and Judas, who saw Mary’s worshipful act as huge waste, because “he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it” (John 12:6).

But this fact begs the question: Why was Judas carrying the moneybag in the first place?

Jesus could have given the moneybag to Nathaniel, “an Israelite indeed, in whom there [was] no deceit” (John 1:47), or to John, “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (John 21:20), or to Levi, who had extensive financial experience (Luke 5:27). But he didn’t. Jesus chose Judas to be the treasurer of his itinerant nonprofit.

One is tempted to offer the Lord some consulting on good stewardship. Donors were supporting this ministry financially (Luke 8:3), and Jesus appointed the one guy he knew was a “devil” (John 6:70) to manage the money. But this was not poor judgment on Jesus’s part. It was deliberate; Jesus knew Judas was pilfering. Why did Jesus allow it?

To read the rest, click here.


Let Darwin Teach You

Charles Darwin loved his scientific studies. They were his “chief enjoyment and sole employment throughout life.” However, as the years passed, Darwin experienced a tragic atrophy. He described it near the end of his life in his autobiography:

Up to the age of 30 or beyond it, poetry of many kinds … gave me great pleasure, and even as a schoolboy I took intense delight in Shakespeare…. Formerly pictures gave me considerable, and music very great, delight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read a line of poetry: I have tried to read Shakespeare, and found it so intolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost any taste for pictures or music… I retain some taste for fine scenery, but it does not cause me the exquisite delight which it formerly did… My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive… The loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character, by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature.

What a devastating loss. All that time abstracting theories from facts so conditioned Darwin’s mind for analysis that he lost his enjoyment of beauty. He lost the forest to the trees. He lost the poetry of life to the dry prose of life data.

To read the rest, click here.