Peace for Today (Friday Devotional)

 

He shall judge between the nations
    and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares
    and their spears into tpruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation;
    neither shall they learn war any more.

- Isaiah 2:4

The other day, I was playing with my 2-year old son Isaac—letting him chase me, throwing him up in the air, that kind of thing. At a certain point, I said to him, “Ikey, come tackle me!”

He paused for a second to process what he’d heard, then rushed toward me with his arms out. But when he lunged at me, it wasn’t to knock me down. He had clearly misunderstood what I’d said—instead of tackling me, he was tickling me.

On this week of Advent, when we reflect on the peace given to us in Christ and we look forward to the day when it will cover all creation, that little misunderstanding reminded me of a prophecy from Isaiah, where he promised that someday people “shall beat their sword into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.” The vision is of a time when destruction gives way to production, when weapons of violence become tools for flourishing. Who knows, in that day maybe we’ll even see tackling become tickling.

We will not see that kind of world in its fullness until Christ’s return, when all things are made new. But for those who are in Christ, our calling is to live as citizens of that kingdom now—to be peacemakers in a world still dominated by conflict. It takes faith to do so, to strive for brotherhood when the more convenient path is domination. The world values battlefield victories more than it does treaties.

But for believers in Jesus, the world’s values are irrelevant—we are aliens here; our home is somewhere else entirely. So in faith, look for opportunities to extend kindness when your flesh would rather use force. After all, the world could use a little less tackling and a little more tickling.

Hope for Tomorrow (Friday Devotional)

 

Surely there is a future, and your hope will not be cut off.

- Proverbs 23:18

After they’d had a week away from school for the Thanksgiving break, on Monday I checked with my kids to see how their first day back was. My son gave the same indifferent answer he usually does—some variation of “it was fine” that I’m sure will devolve into little more than a grunt by the time he’s a teenager. But my daughter’s answer got my attention: “it was ok, but I think I liked last year better than this year.”

Upon further investigation, her preference basically boiled to which kids were in her class from one year to the next. But nevertheless, I was struck by a seeming absurdity: at the tender age of 6, my daughter was already nostalgic for days gone by!

There is something within all of us, something which tends to grow as we age and to flourish in troublesome times, which pines for yesterday and fears tomorrow. We look at the past with rose-colored glasses, remembering its victories with fondness and discounting its defeats. Alternately, the future’s uncertainty tends to stir a spirit of anxiety rather than opportunity. When pining for greener pastures, we retreat to memory instead of looking forward to what’s next.

But as Advent reminds us, God offers us more than the comfort of the good old days, he brings us assurance of hope for tomorrow. When Jesus came to this world, he brought, as the beloved carol proclaims, “a thrill of hope” for which “a weary world rejoices.” By lowering himself to our level and becoming flesh, God showed his love for us, love which was then borne out on the cross where Jesus died.

Because of Jesus—his birth, life, death, and resurrection from the grave—we are promised that the trials and travails of this life are not all we have to look forward to. God welcomes all who trust his Son into his kingdom, where we experience eternal life and the glories of redemption and restoration. The future is bright indeed!

So don’t cling too tight to the nostalgia of yesterday; don’t convince yourself your best days have passed you by. You may not know what the future brings, but you know who holds it.

November Reading Log

 

Not many books in this month's log, but it was a lot of pages. So here's your quick rundown of what I was reading in November!

FUTURE CHURCH by Will Mancini and Cory Hartman

Regular readers of this monthly log know that I'm picky when it comes to church growth books, and I dislike more of them than I like. Too many are just customer service manuals with Bible verses thrown in; at the other end of the spectrum are expository sermons about evangelism with no practical tips. What I'm drawn to are books that take timeless biblical principles and offer on-the-ground advice on applying those truisms in real churches.

Future Church, thankfully, is one of the good ones. Authors Will Mancini and Cory Hartman begin with the true but hardly original thought that the modern church is overprogrammed but underdiscipled, built to maintain its own activities instead of reach the lost for Jesus. They describe a dichotomy between a "Lower Room" and an "Upper Room," with the former representing the status quo—where success is measured by attendance, offerings, and events—and the latter looking to results based on whether church members are making a difference for Jesus outside the church's walls, both through evangelism and service. The "future church," one built for the 21st century instead of clinging to the 20th, will need to move from the lower room to the upper room in order to fulfill its mission.

The second section of the book lays out seven laws churches need to follow in order to make this happen, all of which are general enough to be applicable in any context but specific enough that they don't feel generic. Each law looks at how churches—even so-called successful churches—operated by default in the 20th century, lays out a mission-based problem with that model, and then offers a different way forward, even when it's countercultural.

Then in the book's final section, the authors offer a way for the church to apply these principles so that the church, instead of being an activity center for converts, becomes a launching pad sending out disciple makers. This section, of course, is the tricky part—not diagnosing problems or inventing solutions, but applying a new model to a previously existing one. It falls to the readers and their congregations to see whether they can make it happen in their churches.

This was my kind of church growth book, one which made me think, got my creative juices flowing, and offered words of inspiration. For readers wanting their church to focus more on mission and less on maintenance, I definitely recommend Future Church.

THE DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman

When I was in middle school, spurred on by both the Lord of the Rings film trilogy and my general nerdiness, I got really into fantasy books. And in those halcyon pre-Internet (or at least pre-you-can-Google-anything) days, the only way to learn what fantasy books I liked was to go to the local library, peruse the shelves, and literally judge books by their covers.

The Dragonlance Chronicles had heroes reminiscent of the Lord of the Rings (humans, elves, dwarves, etc.), dragons, and epic battles. At over 1,000 pages, it was huge, just like The Lord of the Rings. And most importantly to preteen Daniel, it was an adult fantasy trilogy—Harry Potter was great and all, but I was ready for the grownup stuff. I devoured it in just a few weeks before moving on to the novels of Terry Goodkind (pretty good, then ok, then terrible) and George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series (which I personally think would make an excellent TV show. Somebody should try that.)

Lately, inspired by several BookTokers I follow, I decided I wanted to get back into fantasy, but wanted to start start small—no Robert Jordan or Brandon Sanderson series that would take years to get through. So I went back to what I knew and picked up an anniversary edition of The Dragonlance Chronicles for the first time in 20+ years. Maybe, I thought, you can go home again.

My main takeaway: this is a good series for a middle schooler. Having originated as a Dungeons & Dragons campaign, the series is big on action but never leaves the shallow end when it comes to characterization, plot, or prose. That made it a great story to read on the bus ride to school, especially in the days before smart phones, when a book was the only entertainment available. But for an adult, it gets a little tiresome and formulaic.

I should probably lay out the plot for you, but I'll make it easier on myself. Think of a fantasy trope, any trope. Got one? Ok, then yes, The Dragonlance Chronicles has what you're thinking of. Epic war between good vs. evil? Yep. Magical objects the heroes quest after? You got it. Realms populated exclusively and conveniently by one magical race? Uh huh.

It's not original and it's not deep, but it is usually fun. The writing is breezy, the characters are likeable, and the authors never make you work hard to understand what's happening. So if what you want is the fantasy equivalent of a network procedural show—something to help you relax and unwind after a long day—then this is a good place to turn. If you want high art, keep looking.

ESSENTIAL IRON MAN VOL. 1-2 by Stan Lee, Archie Goodwin, Don Heck, Gene Colan, et al.

Since 2008, Iron Man has been the face of the Marvel Universe. Everybody knows about billionaire playboy Tony Stark and his wondrous suit of armor, and the conventional wisdom is that he's the straw that stirs the drink when it comes to all things Marvel. But for 40+ years, Iron Man was a B-list superhero, better known as a mainstay on the Avengers than for his own adventures.

Nevertheless, those early adventures are worth reading for an amateur comics historian such as myself, so this month I dove headlong into the first two of the five Essential volumes which collect the Silver and Bronze Age stories of Tony Stark and friends. The first 60 stories came in 10-12 page increments in Tales of Suspense, a two-fer comic he shared with Captain America's solo adventures before both characters received their own full-length titles in 1968. Art duties were primarily handled by Marvel journeymen Don Heck and Gene Colan (though comics legend Steve Ditko was the one who freed the hero from his original bulky suit and put him in sleeker red-and-gold armor.)

The early Iron Man stories are products of their time, and come close to being outright propaganda for the Cold War's military-industrial complex. Tony Stark is a proud weapons manufacturer for the U.S., and virtually all of his early villains are Communist agents of the Soviet Union or China. Most stories revolve around a new costumed villain trying to sabotage one of Stark's factories, only to be thwarted by his "bodyguard" Iron Man. Secretary Pepper Potts and driver Happy Hogan, the primary members of the book's supporting cast, give the book both some screwball comedy elements and a love triangle, of which Stark is (of course) the third point.

At least in these first two volumes, the Tales of Suspense stories are superior to those in the full-length Iron Man book thanks to a storytelling pace that is quick, bordering on exhausting. With only 12 pages to work with, there's no time to waste! Plus, while Stan Lee is the primary writer for the Tales of Suspense stories, Archie Goodwin became the scribe once Iron Man got his own book—and while he's fine, there's a reason you've heard of the former and not the latter.

All in all, this is a fun but middling start for a hero who no one in 1962 could have suspected would become a global phenomenon. More to come next month as I tackle volume 3!

Thankful for Christmas (Friday Devotional)

 

I will praise the name of God with a song;
    I will magnify him with thanksgiving.

- Psalm 69:30

The turkey is in the fridge, the Cowboys game is over, and Santa has made his grand appearance at the Macy’s parade. What the department stores have been telling us since Halloween is now official: the Christmas season is upon us.

But as we trade our orange and brown decorations for red and green, I want to issue a challenge to you: don’t give up on Thanksgiving quite yet. Or rather, don’t give up on giving thanks. Christmas is coming, and its message is worthy of our gratitude.

Hope has a name: Jesus. Give thanks.

Peace is promised, and it comes through the Christ child. Give thanks.

Joy is ours, and it’s because of the Lord. Give thanks.

Love has come in the flesh, God with us. Give thanks.

Christ the Savior is born. Give thanks.

Christmas is right around the corner, with all its obligations and stress, but also with all its warmth and spirit. So before you dive into your preparations, partake of one last leftover from yesterday: give thanks for Christmas.

Slowdowns and Sacrifice (Friday Devotional)

 

I, therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.

- Ephesians 4:1-2

You might be on a particularly narrow stretch of sidewalk, with mud on either side. Or maybe you’re in an especially crowded space, where there’s no room to maneuver around anyone. You could even be behind someone using a walker or a cane, feeling stuck in place while they methodically trudge forward.

Whatever the specifics, we all know the feeling of walking behind someone who is moving slower than you are and being unable to pass them. While such a delay almost never costs you more than a few seconds, it feels like an eternity. With every plodding step the person in front of you takes, you feel your irritation grow—can’t they just move a little faster???

The answer, of course, is often no; people are rarely slowing you down on purpose. But impatience is not one of our more rational emotions. It doesn’t care what excuses others have, only what priorities you have.

Such little slowdowns, then—whether like those described above, or time spent in rush hour traffic, or those moments waiting for someone to return your phone call—can be learning opportunities. Instead of viewing such delays as inconveniences, you can understand them as exercises in humility, instances where you are forced to put somebody else’s needs above your own.

One command believers are consistently given in Scripture—in both the Old and New Testaments—is to be patient with both the Lord and your neighbors. Biblical authors from the prophets to Paul understood that even the most faithful followers of God struggle with subjecting themselves to someone else’s timeline.

But love often requires patience. It means swallowing your own pride and priorities for the sake of someone else’s. It means sacrificing what you feel you deserve so that somebody else can flourish. And yes, it might even mean slowing down when you’d rather they speed up.

So as we enter a season when your schedule is not always your own, let me encourage you to see the occasional slowdown as a blessing instead of a curse. Bearing with others can be a drag—but it can also be a small gesture of love.

Christmas Time's A'Comin' (Friday Devotional)

 

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

- Matthew 5:16

If you’ve been to a department store in the last week or two, you’ve undoubtedly seen it: with Halloween behind us, our commercial overlords have decided that Christmas is upon us. The wreaths and the trees are out, the holiday sales are being advertised, and it won’t be long before you start hearing carols in every public place you go.

For many years, I was firmly in the camp saying you’re not allowed to start celebrating Christmas until after Thanksgiving—we never put up lights until Black Friday, we rarely decorated before December 1, and I didn’t want to hear the jingle of one silver bell until Santa had made his appearance at the end of the Macy’s parade. The church calendar, for what it’s worth, agrees with that take—the earliest date Advent can ever begin is November 27.

But I confess that I’ve softened on my stance over the years. I no longer sneer when I see somebody’s Christmas lights in November. I’m less of a Grinch about holiday displays being put up in stores “too early.” I may have even dusted off my Christmas playlist earlier this week.

My change in attitude boils down to something simple: our world needs more than a month devoted to hope, peace, joy, and love. The holidays are a time when we largely set aside the cares and concerns that occupy us the rest of the year and trade them for hospitality and gratitude, extended time with family, and the stories and songs that bring us closer to God. More and more, it seems like Christmas serves as a temporary antidote to the poisons that have infected our culture—it’s a time when we collectively decide to care about others, give of ourselves, and believe in God’s promises.

It seems a shame that such a season only lasts for, well, a season. But for believers, it doesn’t have to.

Whether you’re singing carols now or you wouldn’t dare until November 28, you can bring joy to the world. Whether your decorations are already out or they’re still boxed up in the attic, you can show the world what hope looks like. Whether your Christmas shopping is already done or you haven’t started, you can give of yourself.

We see a lot of selfishness, bitterness, and cynicism in the world every day, and you don’t have to wait until December to offer a countercultural gospel witness. You may want to wait a few more weeks to put your Christmas lights up—but you can be a light today.

Forever (Friday Devotional)

 

For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven…I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it nor anything taken from it; God has done this so that all should stand in awe before him 

- Ecclesiastes 3:1, 14

For weeks, my wife Lindsey had been giving the side eye to my favorite pair of blue jeans. Their fadedness had gone from fashionable to embarrassing. There were telltale bulges in the pockets where my phone and wallet always rested. Most notably, there was a rip in one of the back pockets.

Nevertheless, when she told me it was time to retire those jeans, I resisted. They were my most comfortable pair, and they fit me better than any others I had. They were also my most expensive pair (though admittedly not by much…my budget veers closer to Old Navy than to Gucci.) I wasn’t ready to part with them yet.

Then on Halloween, my kids and their cousins were playing wiffleball in the front yard and I joined in. After smacking a sharp line drive into the neighbor’s yard, I hustled around the bases and slid across our makeshift home plate, only to feel something give on my backside. I stood up and patted the back of my jeans—sure enough, that little rip had tripled in size.

And with that, my favorite pair of jeans was finally relegated to “yardwork clothes,” no longer suitable for wearing out in public. At long last, their time had come.

In the Book of Ecclesiastes, the writer reminds us of something we all know deep down, even if we don’t always like to think about it—nothing in this life lasts forever. Everything we are blessed to receive and cursed to endure is seasonal, here today and gone tomorrow. Your health and your wealth, your gains and your pains, none of it—for better and for worse—goes with you when you die.

But where the experiences of this life are all transient, God is eternal. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And the work he does stands forever.

That ought to affect your priorities. Life is full of immediate concerns, but you must remember that there is a difference between what’s immediate and what’s important. Spiritual issues can feel secondary sometimes, but they are what endures when the affairs of this world are a distant memory. Prayer is not something to be put off, and worship is not something you do only when it’s convenient for your schedule—these are the things that truly matter.

Nothing in this life lasts forever, not even your best pair of jeans. So invest in what lasts forever—not the things of earth, but the glories of heaven.

October Reading Log

Lots of reading this past month, and I enjoyed pretty much all of it! Take a look!

THE LONG LONELINESS by Dorothy Day

Some believe that activism is incompatible with religious faith, that it is the refuge of secular dreamers who have no hope in a life beyond this one. Some believe that activists are shiftless layabouts, happy to protest and post on social media, but unwilling to sacrifice for their cause or put in an honest day's work.

Such critics have obviously never heard of Dorothy Day. A social activist and devout Catholic, she spent her life feeding the poor, advocating for better working conditions, and protesting against war and injustice through her newspaper, The Catholic Worker. She was unapologetically radical, yet just as committed to her Catholic faith as she was to her activism. She believed—and showed through her life's work—that caring for the needy and making the world a more just place was a divine command, not a mere option.

The Long Loneliness is her memoir, the story of how she came to faith as a bohemian social worker and how she and her colleagues advocated for the poor even as they served them. The title refers to the yearning she said all people feel for meaning and community, one which cannot be met by worldly pursuits—what evangelicals sometimes refer to as a "God-shaped hole in your heart." She describes again and again how her faith informed her activism, and how without it she would have lost hope long ago.

Day's writing is vivid and personal, and you cannot help but admire her commitment as you read her story. She is one of the finest examples of practicing what you preach that I could ever imagine, willing to go to lengths that few others would for the sake of the gospel as she understood it. Dorothy Day has been an official candidate for sainthood in the Catholic Church since 1997, and after reading her memoir, it's easy to understand why. There are many in our world today who give activism a bad name, including many Christians—but she is the example of all that an activist can be.

THE LAST OF HIS KIND by Andy McCullough

On September 18, Clayton Kershaw, the legendary Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher, announced his retirement. That same day, I put a hold at my local library for this biography. My hope was that I'd manage to finish it before the Dodgers were eliminated from the postseason and Kershaw threw his last pitch, which I managed to pull off thanks to the Dodgers' run back to the World Series.

Clayton Kershaw, one of the greatest starting pitchers I've ever seen, holds a special place in the hearts of Major League Baseball fans. Part of it is his singular run with the Dodgers, one of of baseball's premier franchises—due to both his talent and his association with that team, Kershaw has long been painted as the spiritual successor to Sandy Koufax. Part of it is the Shakespearean nature of his career—few pitchers have ever been so great in the regular season, yet Kershaw repeatedly and inexplicably flamed out in the postseason; his is a tale of both triumph and tragedy. And part of it, as this biography's title indicates, is that Kershaw seems to stand in for a bygone style of pitching, where the starter was expected to put the team on his back and carry them to victory.

All of this is covered with sensitivity, detail, and insight by The Athletic's Andy McCullough, who served for years as that publication's beat writer for the Dodgers. McCullough takes readers through Kershaw's early days in the Highland Park neighborhood of Dallas, his rise to greatness with the Dodgers, and all the successes and failures that followed. Along the way, McCullough gives us a look into what makes Kershaw, who is infamously exacting about his routine, tick.

In one sense, the books succeeds in letting readers know what Kershaw's all about: his family for 4 days, and then maniacally focusing on his craft every 5th day. But in another sense, the book preserves the mystique that makes Kershaw feel like an athlete from another time, before social media and the 24/7 news cycle made pro athletes feel just like anybody else. Kershaw, like Koufax before him, feels like baseball royalty, even as he insists otherwise.

Having admired Kershaw for his entire career, I enjoyed reliving his career through this biography. It's a worthy read for anybody else who has done the same. 

THE SHINING by Stephen King

Stephen King's most famous book (thanks in no small part to Stanley Kubrick's film adaptation) is at one level a pretty simple haunted house story—family moves into an isolated Colorado hotel for the winter only to slowly discover that they are not as alone as they thought. But, like the Overlook Hotel, there is more to The Shining than meets the eye, and it's the complexity beneath the surface that makes the book, well, shine.

The Shining centers on the Torrance family—father Jack, mother Wendy, and 8-year-old son Danny—who move into the Overlook after Jack, an aspiring writer, takes a job as the hotel's caretaker for the winter season, when the hotel is closed. The reader soon learns that Jack is a recovering alcoholic who recently lost his job as a professor after angrily assaulting a student. Wendy sees encouraging signs from her husband, but worries the isolation of the hotel will drive her husband back to the bottle. Danny, similarly to King's first protagonist, the titular Carrie White, has a vague but unmistakable supernatural power, "the shining," psychic abilities which give him insight into the future and enable him to telepathically communicate with others who possess his power.

The book traces exactly what Wendy fears, Jack's gradual mental breakdown, which is aided by the supernatural horrors of the Overlook. In a way that is never fully explained, the hotel is alive with the spirits of previous guests and staff, all of whom want to bring the Torrances—and especially Danny—into their fold. By the end of the book, a murderous Jack, fully possessed by the spirits of the hotel, is trying to murder his wife and child, who must reckon with both him and the horrors of the Overlook.

While the thrills of the last 100 pages are what the book is best known for—epitomized by Kubrick's image of Jack's maniacal face bursting through a door as his wife cowers on the other side—it is the slow build that makes the book such a compelling horror story. Jack's descent into madness, Wendy's anxiety, and Danny's innocent confusion make for a potent emotional soup, one that's perfect for a horror story. The knowledge that Jack's breakdown is partly biographical—King was battling drug and alcohol addiction while writing The Shining—only adds to the emotional depth.

The Shining is a classic for a reason, arguably King's scariest book (though Pet Sematary and Misery would like a word.) A great way to ring in spooky season...now I need to go rewatch the movie!

TONIGHT IN JUNGLELAND by Peter Ames Carlin

Born to Run is not only one of the greatest rock 'n' roll albums of all time, it's my personal favorite. So when music journalist Peter Ames Carlin, who had previously written a biography of Bruce Springsteen, built upon that book with one about the writing of the Boss's most beloved album, I had to check it out.

Tonight in Jungleland is a blow-by-blow account of the writing and recording of that album, stressing how it was a make-or-break effort for Springsteen after the two commercially disappointing records that preceded it and how Bruce in turn put everything he had into its production. Loosely, each chapter is devoted to one of the songs on the album, though Carlin plays fast and loose with the timeline in order to provide background information. It's all written by someone with an obvious affection for the album and a talent for describing and explaining its impact.

This is far from essential reading for any but the most devoted Springsteen fans, but it made for a good way to unwind at the end of each day. Paired with Deliver Me From Nowhere, the film that came out last week about the making of the Nebraska album, I had the Boss on the brain and on the radio at the end of October, and likely will for days to come.

ADVENTURE IN GRAND CANYON NATIONAL PARK by Aaron Johnson

The latest entry into the National Park Mystery Series sees Jake, Amber, and Wes make their way to the Grand Canyon, where they encounter some new dangers and see their friendship tested as they continue solving the mysteries left behind by Jake's grandfather.

This book sees two new developments in the series. The first is a tension between the heroes, as Jake finds himself growing increasingly jealous of Amber, who always seems to have the right answer before he does. It's classic adolescent dynamics, and was written well by author Aaron Johnson. The second is the addition of both a new ally and some new enemies, both of which escalate the danger that Jake, Amber, and Wes face.

While I admit that this book did have me wondering whether the series' formula can stretch for a planned 10 books—I'm starting to find it a little repetitive—my kids didn't seem to mind any perceived flaws. National parks, danger, humor, and mystery are all to be found in ample supply in this series. On to Zion National Park for the fourth installment!

AVENGERS BY JONATHAN HICKMAN: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION VOL. 1-5

I've written before about my love-hate relationship with Jonathan Hickman. He is a very smart writer, he knows it, and he wants you to know it too. As such, his specialty is crafting complex story arcs that leave you bewildered at times, only for—theoretically—it all to make sense in the end. Sometimes that formula works nearly to perfection, like his run on Fantastic Four or his X-Men relaunch, House of X and Powers of X. Other times, his style feels more like an exercise in intellectual vanity. Unfortunately, his multiyear run on two Avengers titles feels like the latter.

The overarching story of both titles is that the multiverse is collapsing, leading Tony Stark to come up with two solutions. The first, public solution is to expand the Avengers, building a roster that will be able to not just defeat supervillains, but ultimately prevent Armageddon. The second, secret solution is for him and his fellow members of the Illuminati—a cabal of Marvel's most brilliant and powerful minds—to prevent "incursions" of other worlds into ours by any means necessary, up to and including destroying those other worlds. The eventual failure of both plans leads, ultimately, to Secret Wars, the Hickman-led reboot of the Marvel Universe.

Smack dab in the middle of all of this is "Infinity," a summer event that sees the heroes of Earth team up with Marvel's various cosmic empires (the Kree, Skrulls, Shi'ar, etc.) to take on both a new extraterrestrial threat and the forces of Thanos. This event, though written by Hickman, reeks of an editorial mandate, stalling Hickman's momentum only to be practically forgotten once it comes to an end. A yet, by virtue of its relative simplicity, it was probably my favorite part of the run!

As with so many Hickman stories, the concepts are mind-blowing and there are some really cool moments. But there were also far too many times where I had no idea what I was reading, and where I wasn't certain it was all going to pay off in the end. To that second point, it sort of does, because Secret Wars is pretty great. But I'm not sure we needed 7 years of stories to end the world...especially if I was going to be confused for 4 of them. If you love Hickman—and make no mistake, he's very popular—you'll love this run. But if you don't, well, get ready for a very Hickman-y experience.

Costumes (Friday Devotional)

 

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely.

- Psalm 139:1-4

In neighborhoods across the country, tonight you’ll hear the same cry at every doorstep: “Trick or treat!” Smiling adults will drop fun-sized candy bars into plastic orange buckets. Parents will find their entire vocabularies reduced to two exclamations, “slow down!” and “remember to say thank you!” And most importantly, every child (not to mention plenty of teenagers and adults) will be wearing a costume.

That’s part of the fun of Halloween, of course. Whether you opt for something scary like a vampire or a werewolf, something corporate and recognizable like a Minion or one of the Avengers, or you go with one of those punny getups that you have to explain—see, I’m wearing a beret and holding a piece of bread; I’m French toast—everybody gets to spend the evening pretending to be something they’re not.

Of course, Halloween isn’t the only time we do that. Not really. When you’re at your wit’s end and the cashier asks how you’re doing, you smile and say, “Doing great.” When you want to make a good impression on someone, you laugh at their jokes even when they’re not that funny. When you show up to church on Sunday morning, you wear nicer clothes than you did on Saturday and match it with better manners and a brighter smile. Costumes and make believe, it seems, aren’t reserved for October 31.

But eventually you want to take your costume off and be yourself. You want someone who knows you fully, not just the version of yourself that you present in public. So there’s relief in knowing that the Lord knows you as no one else does—just as there is no hiding from God, there is no fooling him either. He sees you as you truly are—and he loves you anyway.

Costumes can be fun, but the truth is liberating. What a blessing to know that God sees past our disguises to the people he created in his image. And what joy to know that Jesus didn’t die on the cross to save the person you pretend to be—he did it to save you.

Bouncing Down the Road (Friday Devotional)

 

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult.

- Psalm 46:13

A couple days ago, I was driving up Centerville Road when I spotted something out of the ordinary in front of me. It was a large, red, inflatable ball—the kind you see for $5 in a cage at Walmart—bouncing down the road. Maybe it had been in the bed of somebody’s pickup truck and had bounced out, maybe it had been thrown out the window of a passing car like litter, who knows? But there it went, bouncing down the 6-lane road.

It was never a hazard for me—I was in the left lane and it was in the right—but I watched the ball from the moment it caught my attention until long after I drove past it. I was waiting for something—for the moment a car hit the ball head-on and popped it. But as far as I know, that ball just kept bouncing down the street. The last I saw, it was still bouncing down Centerville Road.

Something about that bouncing red ball felt metaphorical to me, felt like life. All of us are, in a sense, like that ball. Every day we do the basic things we know how to do—we go to work, we spend time with friends, we do our chores, we eat, we sleep. We bounce down the road.

But for most of us, there is a persistent feeling of insecurity. What if I get laid off? What if my friends move away? What if the doctor tells me I have cancer? All it takes is one big event, one head-on collision, and life as you know it could come to an end. We need something to make us feel safe, something to make us feel less afraid in a fearful world.

In Psalm 46, the writer speaks of God as a “refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” The psalmist doesn’t live in some pie-in-the-sky fiction where bad things never happen to good people; he has seen enough life to know that things can get dangerous quickly.

But “though the earth should change”—whether through natural disaster, manmade crisis, or any sort of peril—the psalmist says he will not fear. He knows the Lord is with him, so ultimately he is secure.

Life can make you feel like you’re a fragile inflatable ball bouncing down a busy road, just moments away from being run down. But the Bible tells you who to trust in your fear and insecurity—not your own strength and wisdom, but the Lord’s. Keep bouncing, and trust God to get you where you need to be.

All's Fair (Friday Devotional)

Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 

- 1 Corinthians 12:14-15

This weekend marks the conclusion of a favorite annual tradition for families across our region, including mine: the State Fair of Texas. Every year, more than 2 million Texans—and, at least for one weekend, visitors north of the Red River—make their way to Dallas’ Fair Park to eat, play games, eat, ride rides, eat, see shows, and eat some more.

There are probably certain parts of the fair you enjoy every time you go—for us, no trip is complete without a Fletcher’s corny dog, a stroll through the livestock barn, and a quick perusal of the new cars in the Automobile Building. Then again, there are other aspects of the fair you may have never tried. Maybe you skip the games at the midway, or steer clear of the Ferris wheel. Maybe—<shudder>—you pack your own lunch so you won’t have to pay for fair food.

But whether you do it all or simply grab your corny dog and go, I think you’ll agree, the State Fair is more than just the activities you partake in. It’s crowds gathering around Big Tex for selfies, even if you don’t take any yourself. It’s live music playing on the main stage, even if you don’t know the band’s name. It’s the thousands of sights, sounds, smells, and tastes—the ones for you and the ones for others. Some parts appeal to you more than others, but every bit of it matters.

So it is with the church, where individual differences and distinctions come together in the unity of the Spirit. The Bible teaches us that all believers are empowered with different spiritual gifts—everything from wisdom to hospitality to teaching—for the common good. Similarly, the church has always been made up of both men and women, young and old, rich and poor.

Such diversity can be challenging, and so the temptation is to divide ourselves into more homogenous groupings in the name of ‘relatability.’ But the danger in doing so—in always surrounding believers with people just like them—is that you rob people of the kind of church Jesus created.

The truth is that every person has something to contribute to the church; every individual member matters to the body. Your brother in Christ possesses gifts you don’t have, and you have something to offer that your sister in Christ doesn’t. We need everyone to carry out the mission our Lord has given us.

Like the offerings at the fair, you don’t have to appreciate or even understand every ministry of your church. Some will appeal to you and others won’t resonate. But praise God for all those using their gifts to make your church a vibrant, multifaceted family of faith.

Made New (Friday Devotional)

 

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

- Romans 6:4

Netflix used to be best known for sending DVDs through the mail. Amazon once exclusively sold books. YouTube originally started as a dating website. And before it was marketed as modeling clay for children, Play-Doh was initially sold as a cleaner to remove coal residue from wallpaper.

All these companies, for various reasons, reinvented themselves over time. They found new purpose, a new way to exist in the world—and because of their imagination and their willingness to change, they saw growth they had never imagined.

When the Bible describes life in Christ, it explains it as just such a conversion—not a slight modification of behavior, but a total transformation. Believers in Jesus are baptized in water, and that immersion symbolizes a spiritual death and resurrection—when we emerge from the waters of baptism, we do so as new creations. Even as Jesus was raised from the dead, we are raised to new life in Christ.

Longtime disciples of Jesus need that reminder: there is supposed to be a marked difference between your life before you were saved and your life after you come to faith. Salvation is not something you tack onto an existing lifestyle, but something that changes everything.

If secular corporations can be transformed, surely the same can be true for God’s children. May we be known not for minor modifications, but for total transformation.

Christlike Compassion (Friday Devotional)

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

- Matthew 9:36

The other day, something upset my daughter Katherine. I don’t remember if she’d hurt herself, if somebody had made her mad, or if she’d just been told she needed to do her chores—but whatever the case, she had collapsed into a heap on the floor, sobbing.

What made me remember that moment was what happened next. As she wailed, our son Isaac, not yet 2 years old, curiously walked up to her. Even as she screamed, he cupped her face in his hands—the same way he does to me and his mom when he wants us to pay attention to him—and quietly questioned, “Hi, KaKa?”

There’s a reason why that little moment has been rolling around my brain all week—as adults, we almost never do that. When we see a stranger in need, it makes us uncomfortable and we look away.  When a loved one is struggling, we silently wonder how long it will take for things to go back to normal. Our immediate reaction is not to enter into someone else’s suffering, but to flee from it.

Jesus never ran away from people in need, he ran toward them. Whether to heal, to teach, or simply to console, Jesus’ instinct was to reach out to the suffering, to put their face in his hands. Because he knew—and he was teaching us—that love is not just something you feel, but something you demonstrate.

Christlike compassion requires more than good intentions, it requires stepping outside your comfort zone. It means showing people, not just telling them, about the love of Jesus. May you not respond to tears by turning away, but by stepping up.

September Reading Log

 

Not a lot of entries in this month's log, but believe me, I read a LOT. In fact, this was probably my most disciplined month of reading all year. Take a look below to see what held my attention this month!

BECOMING THE PASTOR'S WIFE by Beth Allison Barr

In 2021, one of the biggest books in evangelicalism was Beth Allison Barr's The Making of Biblical Womanhood, a book that was part history and part polemic, all focused on how the modern concept of complementarianism was not, as often said, "what the Bible has always taught," but was really just a new spin on sanctified patriarchy. She wrote that it was time for women to go and be free, aided by examples in both the Bible and church history which prove women's calling by God.

Becoming the Pastor's Wife has a narrower focus but a similar theme. In this book, Barr keys in on the role of the pastor's wife, showing how for generations that role has been both elevated and inherently limited within the church. Her argument is that this has been done less as a sign of respect for ministerial spouses than as a way to enforce complementarianism—the only leadership role a woman can hold in the church is an unofficial one that is directly tied to her relationship to a man. In other words, little girls are taught that God wouldn't call them to be ministers, he would call them to marry ministers.

Barr approaches this argument from a number of different angles, showing how pastor's wives have blessed their churches and communities even as they are kept in the shadows. Her historical examples range from medieval saints to 20th century women in the Southern Baptist Convention. And sprinkled throughout is her own testimony as a pastor's wife—the ways she has fit within the mold of what is expected of her and the ways she has not.

This book does not necessarily have the broad appeal of The Making of Biblical Womanhood, but is nevertheless a fascinating and, at times, provocative read. There is plenty to learn from Becoming the Pastor's Wife, and Beth Allison Barr has once again blessed the church with her research and writing.

GOD'S COACH by Skip Bayless

THE BOYS by Skip Bayless

HELL-BENT by Skip Bayless

Before his forays on First Take or Undisputed made him a household name among sports fans, Skip Bayless was a columnist for the dearly departed Dallas Times-Herald, where his takes on the city's sports teams—especially the omnipresent Dallas Cowboys—made him a local celebrity in the 1980s and 1990s. Along the way, he wrote three infamous books about the Cowboys, filled with both both insight and conjecture, reporting and sensationalism. You know, classic Skip.

God's Coach is, at its heart, a hit job. Bayless became a columnist at the low point of the Tom Landry years, when the coach was clearly past his prime and struggling to hang on. So Bayless' take in this book is that Landry was never actually the genius he was portrayed to be—merely a good man and a sincere Christian whose image outpaced his skill. On the plus side, this book highlights the players who made the Cowboys into America's Team, showing that they—not the the trinity of Landry, president and general manager Tex Schramm, and chief scout Gil Brandt—were most responsible for Dallas' consistent success. But ultimately, Skip doth protest too much—while never quite coming off as vindictive, his criticism of Landry ultimately seems more about the author's contrarianism than about telling the truth.

The Boys is the most conventional of the three books, a beginning-to-end account of the Cowboy's 1992 season, when Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson's dreams became reality and Dallas inaugurated a dynasty with its first Super Bowl win since the glory days of Landry, Schramm, and Brandt. In one sense, this is the best of Bayless' three books because it is the least spectacular—this is Skip the sportswriter, not Skip the provocateur. There's some behind-the-scenes drama along the way—including, presciently, tension between Jimmy and Jerry—but mostly this is just a chronicle of how that season played out. Its biggest weakness is that you can really tell which players and assistants gave Bayless a lot of access and which didn't want to talk to him—from reading this book, you'd think defensive coordinator Dave Wannstedt was the glue that held the team together and that offensive coordinator Norv Turner barely showed up to work. Give Skip the time of day and he'll make you a star.

Hell-Bent is the wildest of the three books, as Skip shifts back into let's-make-some-headlines mode, most infamously by speculating (absent any evidence whatsoever) that Troy Aikman might be gay and that he once called a teammate the N-word. The central drama of the book is the very real conflict between Aikman and head coach Barry Switzer, who took over after the firing of Jimmy Johnson and brought a far more laid-back, boys-will-be-boys attitude to the enterprise. Bayless takes Switzer's side—since that's the opposite of what the rest of the Dallas media was doing—portraying him as misunderstood and Aikman as whiney and petty. The book culminates in the Cowboys' 1995 Super Bowl victory, which comes more as a relief than a triumph and which Bayless ominously (and, as it turns out, correctly) predicts may be the beginning of the end for the Cowboys dynasty.

Look, these books were pretty popular because Skip Bayless has always had a knack for getting attention and turning a phrase. They're also trashy, over-the-top, and full of a lot more style than substance. So, in a way, they are the perfect books for the Jerry Jones-era Cowboys—they're not good, but you can't look away.

 

THOR BY JASON AARON: THE COMPLETE COLLECTION VOL. 1-5

From 2012 to 2019, Marvel handed the keys to Asgard over to Jason Aaron, and the result was 100+ issues of arguably the best comics Thor has ever seen—only the great Walt Simonson has a case for topping Aaron's run. At a rate of more than 3 issues per day, I immersed myself in the whole run this past month, gobbling up all the thunder I could withstand.

The run is bookended by stories about a brand new character who immediately landed on the Mount Rushmore of Thor villains: Gorr the God Butcher, an ordinary mortal whose life of tragedy and unanswered prayers, combined with the fortuitous discovery of the ultrapowerful Necrosword, give him the motivation and the means to hunt down and destroy all the gods in the Marvel Universe. Menacing, creepy, and seemingly omnipotent, Gorr is a worthy antagonist for the God of Thunder, and the battles against him cross space and time—it is only by enlisting the aid of a younger version of himself and his future self (the truly awesome King Thor the All-Father) that Thor is able to stand a chance against the God Butcher.

The rest of the run is dominated by two stories: the War of the Realms and the replacement of the Odinson with Jane Foster, his onetime lover, who becomes the new Thor when the old one is rendered unworthy by his own self-doubt. The War of the Realms is plotted and led by longtime Thor antagonist Malekith, a dark elf who I'd never cared much about but who makes an incredible villain in this story, as he seeks to take over or destroy all ten of the realms, from Asgard to Midgard (Earth) to Svartalheim, Niffleheim, and all the other lands of Norse mythology. It all culminates in an event that brings the rest of the Marvel Universe into the fray to defend Earth and take down Malekith, led by Thor.

The story of "lady Thor" is really the heart of the run though. Jane Foster, wracked by cancer, is imbued with the powers of the God of Thunder every time she picks up Thor's hammer, but doing so accelerates her disease—being Thor is killing her, but the realms need her. While the story was divisive among misogynists, it is beautifully told, so much so that I was actually disappointed when the "real Thor" was once again worthy enough to pick up Mjolnir.

All of these stories are aided by incredible art, first from Esad Ribic and then Russell Dauterman (and then Mike del Mundo, though he places a distant third). Ribic brings a painterly quality that makes the Gorr stories feel appropriately mythological and high-concept. Dauterman, in contrast, is pure metal, superhero comics at their best. Both are perfect for the stories they are telling, and writer Jason Aaron couldn't be more fortunate to have them as co-creators.

If all you know of the Jason Aaron run is its adaptation in the much-maligned film Thor: Love and Thunder, you owe it to yourself to read the FAR superior source material. It's the most fun I've ever had reading Thor.

Bow Your Heads, Close Your Eyes (Friday Devotional)

 

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." 

- Psalm 46:10

When teaching children how to pray, there are usually three instructions I give: Put your hands together, bow your head, and close your eyes. Before we ever get into “Dear God,” before I ever explain the different kinds of prayer, and long before the final “amen,” we start with that simple posture: put your hands together, bow your head, and close your eyes.

But have you ever wondered why we do those things when we pray? Why is that posture—one never explicitly demanded by Scripture—so automatic for believers around the world and throughout the ages?

I think it comes down to one word: still. When you clasp your hands together, you render them incapable of doing anything else—they can’t make anything or break anything, they can’t move at all. When you bow your head, you fix your gaze in one direction, limiting the scope of what you can see. And when you close your eyes, you block out your vision altogether, shutting out the world around you. For the time you are praying, you cease moving and observing. You’re simply still.

In our overstimulated world, there is something powerfully humble about making yourself still for the sake of prayer. Ours is a society where focus is fragmented, where we are bombarded by ceaseless alerts and notifications, where taking a 5-minute bathroom break without your phone in hand is borderline incomprehensible. We live in a state of constant distraction.

But when you pray, you declare that time with God is worthy of your focus. When you bow your head and close your eyes, you choose to shut out the noise. You are still.

So let me encourage you now, whether you are reading this on your phone while waiting in line, on your desktop computer in between tasks, or on your iPad while you bounce between emails and social media—stop what you’re doing for a couple minutes. Turn it all off and set it to the side. Just for a few minutes, be still and know that the Lord is God. Listen to what God has to tell you when you pray—because when you don’t move and you can’t see, you’ll be amazed by what you hear.