The subtitle of this book is “Recovering a Biblical View of Christian Dating.”  The authors are Rick and Sharon Phillips who led the singles ministry at Tenth Presbyterian in Philadelphia for several years—so they’ve been in the trenches.

We need this book.  They usefully wrote it for adults, not teenagers.  They speak biblically, directly, and boldly into a Christian culture that that takes dating too lightly and that approaches it too individualistically.  Consider this counter-cultural advice given to a man and woman beginning a dating relationship:

Godly friends on both sides should be aware of the relationship to give counsel, to pray for blessing, and to provide accountability.  If the woman is living near her parents, it would be even better for a man to approach her father first, or if that is not possible, to approach his or her pastor for godly counsel and support.  The point is that when a man is out with a Christian woman, he must remember that she is someone who belongs in a community, a family, and a church (117).

Exactly right.  It makes me wonder, how can someone date, in a God-honoring fashion, without being a committed member of a church, without being known by a community committed to love, encourage, and, where necessary, rebuke?  This becomes even more important for adults who are dating and living away from parents and the accountability that father and mother so naturally provide.  In any event, I love the fact that the Phillips write about the importance of the father.  They write about the importance of the church.  Parents, we need to take responsibility for our kids.  Churches, we need to take responsibility for our singles.Read more

He will welcome the weary, so press on.

Tennessee native Robinella and her complete bluegrass string-band recently released their fourth full-length album “Solace for the Lonely”.  Partnering with producer Doug Lancio, whose credits also appear on the records of Patty Griffin and others, results in a product that unsuccessfully attempts to blend jazz and bluegrass.  While in its entirety the album is not particularly gripping, one song might make it worth your listen.

Matching the appropriate musical style with the vocals is critical.  If David Byrne of Talking Heads sang bluegrass songs, it would sound awkwardly painful.  The sultry tone of Robinella’s vocals are similar to Norah Jones or Madeleine Peyroux, while the strumming patterns and pedal steel guitar would put this album in the same section as Allison Krauss or Gillian Welch in your local record shop.  Tracks like “Whippin’ Wind” and “Oh So Sexy” are forgettable because the seductive vocals estrange the folk-style guitar-picking and the whistle of the pedal steel guitar in the background.  In contrast, the bluesy rhythms of “Waiting” and “Break It Down Baby” fuse naturally and even enhance Robinella’s soft melodies. 

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There are times when pronouncing the providence of God sounds like an indictment of His character. I have found that chaplain work includes many such moments. Statements like, “It was just his time” and “God must have wanted him for something” fall like icicles crashing on hard pavement.

I am presently bedside—figuratively at the moment, but literally for much of the night last night—waiting for a friend to pass. He trained with me in Indiana this summer, getting ready for the deployment to Iraq. David was always smiling and always joking and usually saying something ridiculous. He was much younger at nineteen than the average age of our force. David was a kid in our midst. When I first met him, he came to me with the earnest belief that God had appointed him for a purpose. There was something big he was supposed to do, he just didn’t know what yet.

David went over to Iraq in August, but after a month he was returned to Walter Reed for medical issues. He spent the last seven months at Walter Reed taking one or two appointments a week. Last week he was driving home for the long weekend when he got himself going the wrong way on a highway. He hit a semi truck head on. Now his family and I are gathered in Baltimore waiting to say a final “Goodbye.”

This is not the first time that the traditional Calvinist view on providence has been difficult to play out as a minister. Yes, I insist that God appointed David’s days. Yes, I insist that God is in charge, everywhere and every moment. But it seems sometimes like there are little pockets of chaos even within the fabric of God’s providence. Every now and then, we pass through these pockets of chaos, or pass over them, or they pass by us, and we shiver. Read more

Molly Decker is a friend to a few CGO folks in the DC area, and she is a friend of our blog.  I offered to post her news of a benefit concert in DC. 

Here's Molly:Read more

According to Romans 8, we're all pregnant. That may come as a surprise to you, especially to you men. As a single missionary, I find it startling as well.

But Paul says all believers are pregnant-“All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it's not only around us; it's within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We're also feeling the birth pangs” Romans 8:22 (The Message).

Something stirred in me when I met Christ. Do you remember your conversion? There was a sense of joy, and of fear and imbalance. An annunciation signaled, “something is happening to me.” I didn't know what that “something” was, but I knew I would never be the same. I was being enlarged.Read more

CGO Contributor Connally Gilliam published an article in the current edition of SAM Journal. 

Click here for Connally's piece.

Way to go, Connally!!Read more

It was like a scene from a Frederick Buechner novel – an odd collection of odd people.  Like the elderly gentlemen sitting behind me who kept passing gas, a middle aged woman rocking rhythmically in her seat like Leo Mazzone, and a silvery headed minister who said the word “just” more than “Jesus” when he prayed.  Many of the ladies had Rev. in front of their names in the bulletin.  Hands reached heavenward as mumblings of “hallelujah” and “amen” and “bless you” filled the room.  At one point I swear I saw the setup crew from TBN.  A soloist sang It Is Well With My Soul and gave a Tiger Woods fist pump when she got to the last verse, which surprisingly failed to startle the teenage girl sitting in front of me, her head laying softly on her mother’s shoulder.  And then there was me, a Presbyterian minister of all things to be, hunched over in an uncomfortable plastic fold out chair from Sam’s, elbows on my knees, head in my hands, my wife on one side, her mother on the other, tears filling my eyes.                Read more

As a rule of thumb, the Oscars don't matter. Not one whit, and I’ll tell you why. On Hollywood’s biggest night of the year, we rarely see awards go to the most lasting films, the ones that really count for something in our culture and in the annals of film history. Instead, the voters herd together behind films that fit their narrow political, moral, and emotional range.

Consider last year’s Best Picture winner, Million Dollar Baby—expertly shot and well acted, but unforgivably ham-fisted and preachy. And it was no exception. Oscar has a venerable tradition of overlooking filmmaking greats (Alfred Hitchcock, Martin Scorcese) in favor of filmmaking gaffes (Ron Howard, Ridley Scott).

Still, every Oscar night I sit in front of my television hoping against hope that the voters will see fit to reward films that are truly excellent—L.A. Confidential over Titanic, Moulin Rouge over A Beautiful Mind, and so on. It almost never happens.

So, because they rarely manage to acknowledge great filmmaking, I want to believe the Oscars don’t matter. But each Oscar season, I hope and pine and argue as if they do matter, as if a “Best Picture” statue can really confer onto a movie true cultural relevance and artistic greatness.

This year could be different. This year, the work of cultural relevance and artistic greatness might already be done. Read more

I'm guessing that many CGO readers are John Piper fans. I know I am. You may know that he has been successfully battling prostate cancer. He wrote a very powerful piece on the eve of his surgery. I've re-read it many times and thought you might find courage in it as well. Here is the link:

Click here.

Among Urbanists, there is an informal test used to ascertain whether a particular location qualifies as a ‘real’ neighborhood.  It is known as the ‘orange juice test’ and it involves determining whether a twelve year old son or daughter could be sent out on his or her own to get some orange juice for the family breakfast.  The ability to complete this simple test is contingent upon a number of factors that are thought to be essential for neighborhood life:

1) Mixed use zoning that allows commercial and residential buildings to coexist;
2) The existence of a coherent network of sidewalks and streets that give the pedestrian as much consideration as the automobile;
3) Enough ‘social capital’ among neighbors for parents to relax when one of their children is outside of the house and under no one’s direct supervision.

The idea of such a test is to determine whether a neighborhood is a welcoming and safe place for young people.  However, the issue is relevant to other population groups.  The presence of such factors that make a neighborhood hospitable for young people also makes it work for older residents as well.  According to Christopher Alexander the existence of both young and old is a requisite condition for vibrant neighborhood life:

"in every neighborhood contains a small pocket of old people, not concentrated in all in one place, but fuzzy at the edges like a swarm of bees.  This will both preserve the symbiosis between young old and give the old people the mutual support they need within the pockets" (A Pattern Language, 218)

What’s at stake here in looking at the experience of the young and old is whether or not those who cannot operate an automobile are invited to participate fully in everyday life through the mediating structure of the neighborhood.  The reason for even having such a test is to reveal the fact that for many so called family friendly subdivisions that have been built since WWII the orange juice test would not be passed and most people too young, too old, too poor, or too sick to operate an automobile would be dependant upon someone else to gain access to many of the amenities of daily life.   Read more