Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him
When into the woods He came.

Out of the woods my Master went,
And He was well content.
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
'Twas on a tree they slew Him -- last
When out of the woods He came.

I don’t remember where I first encountered Asch. It was around 2012, when I ordered The Nazarene on Kindle and read it. I’ve since re-read it 3 more times, I found it so moving. Similarly with The Apostle, and Mary. Who would have thought an early 20th century observant Jewish author would write a series of well-researched fictional books (historical novels), together referred to as the “founders of Christianity” series. Unknown to most, Asch was well versed in what’s called “The Oral Tradition” or the Aggadah of the Jews. He used this knowledge to great effect in weaving many hundreds of stories of peoples and communities in first century Palestine - into these three magnificent books.

Historical novels, as a genre of course, vary widely in their faithfulness to history and accuracy. It is my clear impression that these are highly accurate and consistent with historical events; they are certainly consistent with both the Old and the New Testaments. The particular skill of Asch is to conform Biblical and historical events into the everyday lives of individuals (both historical and fictional) as they actually lived at this critical period of history. Many of the eternal elements of human nature are portrayed - credibly and beautifully.

I have come away with some important understandings which ring so very true. In large part, that’s because Asch wrote with a dedication to accuracy. His understanding arose not only from study of Torah (“The Law”) but also from tradition whose history was woven into every aspect of his own life, from birth through childhood and adulthood in Jewish ghettos in Poland. He has given me understanding far beyond the bare bones version I had from reform Jewish/secular upbringing.

The most powerful understanding I have from these three monumental books derives from the ancient Hebrews’ expectation of the Messiah. There is much discussion throughout these books as to the nature of the Messiah: was He to be temporal or secular? Of this world or the Kingdom of Heaven? A revolutionary or savior? For the Jews alone or for the gentiles as well?

In ways I find myself unable to yet articulate, I have some sense of the earliest cleavages which took place between Observant Jews and “Messianists” in Jesus’ time. There were many divisions between Jews already in existence. The divisions were both worldly (whether and/or how to defeat Roman occupation) and spiritual (those “strong in the law” vs. “unclean” Jews who failed to adequately observe the many, many burdensome strictures of the law). Divisions between Pharisees and Saducees were a continuous undertone.

Among these disputes, and woven throughout all three books, is the question of whether the Messiah was only for the Jews or for the gentiles as well. This was an especially divisive question among the most religious Jews of all schools of thought. One view said that strictly following Torah (the Law) kept Jews pure and at a safe distance from the “abominations” of the gentiles - idol worship, child sacrifice, prostitution/sexual perversions, etc. Since the Jews, they said, submitted to the burdens imposed by the law, they were “entitled” to the Messiah. Among other viewpoints (beyond the scope here), was the notion that the Jews’ observance of the law, was merely God’s way of using the Jewish people as the soil in which the Messiah might be born. These ideas are fleshed out repeatedly in all the books, and I find, very thought provoking.

The Apostle, the story of Saul, then Paul of Tarsus, is especially revealing of all the subtleties which lead to the great historical division between Christians and Jews. I have to say the totality of having read these books - again, many of the events take place in the mundane, everyday lives of the characters set in that time and place - has profoundly revised my understanding of history.

When this rumor referenced Al Gore back in 1999, it was readily spread by conservative commentators. (Paul Harvey, for example, mentioned it during his noontime broadcast on 6 July 1999.) Oddly enough, conservative columnist Cal Thomas maintained that the story was indeed true, only it had to do with President George H. W. Bush (father of George W. Bush):

Bush said it in my presence at a religious broadcasters convention about 1990, and I wrote about it in my book, Blinded by Might: Can the Religious Right Save America. But somehow it got twisted around and stuck on the Internet and put in Al Gore's mouth. He's got a lot of stuff that he has to defend, but that's not one of them.

Titling this article has proved more difficult than writing it. I considered everything from “21 Smug People Talk About A Subject None Of Them Understands, Least of All Jordan Peterson” to “Jordan Peterson Debates The Existence Of A God, But Not One Any Of Us Have Ever Heard of.” //

Brian, an outlier insofar as he appeared to be in his 40s, asks a timeless question: What is the purpose of life? Proverbs 3:5-6, Matthew 6:33, and Mark 12:30-31 are all helpful here. The Westminster Confession of Faith has something to say on the matter, too.

Peterson instead offers a program for self-improvement as if life were just one big gym membership.

Kumari wants Peterson to explain sin and hell.

If ever there was a time for Peterson to give a coherent answer, this was it. He talked of “improvement” as a means of avoiding hell. Neither the words of the Christian vocabulary — repentance, forgiveness, grace, redemption, restoration, etc. — nor their meanings were ever brought to bear. Peterson does speak of sin, but only as “miss[ing] the target,” which he proceeds to do completely.

There are very reasonable answers to all these questions. But Peterson, as lost as anyone in the room, knew none of them. Instead, one by one, twenty atheists were sent away with nothing for their souls.

And it’s souls I am concerned with here. For the Christian, these are issues of eternal significance, not clever repartee. //

I have debated and dialogued with many atheists — Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, Christopher Hitchens, Michael Shermer, Peter Singer, etc. — and more than a few Muslims on the question of God in venues ranging from CNN and Hyde Park to Al Jazeera and a Seattle concert hall, and my opponents all had this in common: They were very clear on the fact that they were atheists or Muslims. There is genuine integrity in that. For my own part, I made it very clear that I was there, not to win an argument, but to win their souls. So, I find it nauseating that these young people, however misguided they might be, owned their convictions while Peterson played coy. //

You simply cannot engage this age group flippantly as Peterson does. They are too sincere for that. They are too ready to put legs to their professors’ crackpot ideas.

A humorous but true story to illustrate my point: Years ago, my students, seeing that I collected rocks from historical sites, made note of the fact and decided to act. Shortly thereafter they were bringing me marble they had chipped off the Parthenon, pieces of the Great Wall of China and the Palace of Versailles, and even a cobblestone they had pulled right out of Red Square (no small feat, I can tell you). I had unwittingly created a class of vandals!

Too often, however, the results are less amusing. The ranks of Antifa, BLM, and every civilization-destroying revolution since the dawn of time are full of young people like those who “surrounded” Peterson here. If you would teach them, you must be prepared to lead them to truth. To do otherwise is morally irresponsible. And this raises a question:

To what, exactly, was Peterson trying to convert them? Deism? New Age mysticism? Jordan Petersonism? Certainly not Christianity. //

But Zina won’t be put off. Wanting to know if her soul is in danger, she circles back and tries to get a straightforward answer: “What I’m saying is that your interpretation of the Bible — if you cannot tell us again if these historical events happened or not, that can be a deciding factor if someone is damned to hell for eternity or if they go to heaven, right?”

Peterson: “I don’t concern myself so much with that particular question.”

And with that, ladies and gentlemen, the curtain was drawn back on all of Jordan Peterson’s theological ramblings to reveal a man who knows not a damn thing on this subject worth a moment more of Zina’s time. His seemingly agonized stream-of-consciousness talk about God and the Bible is just so many donuts in the parking lot, leading his audiences absolutely nowhere. Remember, from a Christian perspective, the goal is the cross of Jesus Christ. It isn’t to make you religious or spiritual or to give you warm and fuzzy feelings about God or an appreciation for the Bible as a religious text. Hell will be full of such people. The objective is nothing short of the cross. Eternal life. And as Zina discovered, Peterson can’t get you there.

As an old seminary professor of mine used to say, “If your audience cannot see Jesus at the end of your teaching, you get an F.” So, where was Jesus in any of this? His name was mentioned twice in 90 minutes, and it’s more than a little telling that it wasn’t Peterson who did it on either occasion; it was Zina, and Peterson moved the discussion away from him with all possible haste.

Zina later made this astute observation: “Jordan Peterson’s framework for understanding Christianity is probably not the one that the Bible intended us to use.”

It fascinates me that Peterson offers himself as an authority on the Bible while missing its central message so comprehensively. The Book of Job, a Peterson favorite, contains a warning that he apparently missed. It comes from the Lord in the last chapter of that book, and it’s a reminder to us that any who dare speak of him had better do so accurately:

“My anger burns against you and against your two friends, for you have not spoken of me what is right.”

Almost nothing Peterson says about God is right. That should give his audiences pause, if not Peterson himself.

For many Christians, the idea of God as refuge is deeply comforting—until life becomes overwhelming.

In seasons of emotional pain, chronic stress, grief, or trauma, Scripture about God’s nearness can feel strangely out of reach. You may believe God is your refuge, yet your body remains tense, your thoughts feel scattered, and prayer seems to fall flat. That disconnect can quietly give rise to guilt, confusion, or self-doubt: If God is really with me, shouldn’t I feel better than this?

The answer is no—and understanding why can be profoundly freeing.

Why God Can Feel Distant During Emotional Pain

When life becomes threatening, emotionally, relationally, or physically, the brain shifts into survival mode. The amygdala becomes more reactive, scanning for danger, while the parts of the brain responsible for reflection, trust, and perspective are less accessible. This is not a lack of faith; it is a stress response.

During these seasons:

• Emotional intensity can override spiritual reassurance
• God’s presence may be intellectually affirmed but emotionally inaccessible
• Silence can feel personal, even when it isn’t

This helps explain why someone can sincerely love God and still feel abandoned in suffering. Your nervous system may be interpreting the world as unsafe, even when your theology is sound.

Psalm 46:1 does not deny this reality:
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”

Notice what the verse does not say. It does not promise the absence of trouble—or the immediate experience of calm. It promises presence within distress.

When Silence Disqualifies Faith Leadership

This is where the line must be drawn clearly.

Faith leaders who refuse to confront truth because they fear how their congregations will react are not exercising faith.

They are managing risk.

Scripture defines faith plainly. Hebrews 11:1 tells us faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.

Faith has never required safety.

It has always required courage.

If you cannot speak God’s truth when it threatens attendance, donations, reputation, or comfort, you may be a leader of people, but you cannot claim to be a leader of faith.

Jesus did not soften His message to keep followers.

He told the truth and watched people walk away.

Comfort is not a fruit of the Spirit.

Rooted in Christ but Relevant for Our Changing World
by Richard Pratt

1 Corinthians 9:19–23
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All Christian leaders, and especially those who minister the Word of God, must be sure that they remain firmly rooted in Christ. This is especially true when the world around us challenges the Christian faith in new ways. As Third Millennium Ministries’ Richard Pratt explains, the apostle Paul experienced this in his own life—and in 1 Corinthians, he wrote how he was able to stay firmly rooted but also relevant in his changing world.

Our Basic Conduct as a Disciple
by Hershael York

Selected Scriptures
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God bestows great blessings, but He also takes away gifts—including ministry opportunities such as that lost by preaching professor Hershael York’s missionary father. Yet while the apostle Paul lamented the “thorn in the flesh” given him by God, he also found comfort in His all-sufficient grace. York reminds us that while some church leaders may try to rely on world-pleasing strength and wealth, God may use our unwanted suffering to help us rely on Him.

So, Naturally, We Proclaim Christ!
by Tony Merida

Colossians 1:24–29
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The devil is untroubled by moral improvement plans or people becoming more religious. What Satan does not want is Christ being preached. Tony Merida reminds us of the importance of proclaiming Jesus by unpacking the priority, purpose, and power of Christ-centered preaching, which was exemplified by Paul’s ministry to the Colossians. Jesus, Merida reminds us, is fully sufficient. He must be the focus of every sermon we preach, as He is the focus of whole of God’s Word.

To the Praise of His Glory (Part 1)
Ephesians 1:1-6
Why Ephesians Big Deal?
Gospel Doctrine, Gospel Culture
The Importance of the Church
Spiritual Warfare
Practical Answers for Basic Christianity

Ruth’s words to Naomi really do stand out as Hebrew poetry, in parallel couplets. It’s surprising that Bibles don’t format them this way:

Entreat me not to leave you
or to return from following you;

for where you go I will go,
and where you lodge I will lodge;

your people shall be my people,
and your God my God;

where you die I will die,
and there will I be buried.

After elegantly concluding her poem by varying the you-I progression with a solemn final statement, Ruth swears an oath that she asks God to enforce: “May the Lord do so to me and more also if even death parts me from you!”

I don’t think this language is actually taken from an ancient Israelite marriage ceremony. (The opposite is true: people have taken Ruth’s words and turned them into marriage vows.) Rather, it’s characteristic of Hebrew narrative that when someone has something crucial to say, on which the story line turns, they say it in poetry. In the ancient oral culture, this would make the saying memorable and repeatable (kind of like an advertizing slogan today). //

Examples like these show that poetry was used for important pronouncements in Hebrew narrative, probably reflecting the actual customs of the culture. And we have to admit that among her many other qualities as a “woman of noble character,” Ruth was a fine poet.

How the Bible’s Supernatural Story Was Bent to Fit Culture—and Why Recovering It Matters

One of the quiet tragedies of church history is not that Christians rejected the Bible, but that—at a critical moment—they reinterpreted it to survive cultural pressure. Instead of allowing Scripture to challenge the assumptions of the age, parts of the Church chose to soften the Bible’s worldview so it would sound reasonable to the world it was trying to convert. Over time, that accommodation didn’t just adjust emphasis; it changed how entire passages were understood.

Genesis 6 sits at the center of that story. //

By the time of Augustine of Hippo, Christianity had moved from persecuted minority to imperial religion. The Church was now expected to sound respectable to educated Greco-Roman elites. Pagan philosophers mocked stories of divine beings mating with humans as primitive mythology. Christianity, eager to be seen as intellectually serious, felt pressure to respond.

Augustine did not ask, “How would ancient Israelites have understood this?”
He asked, “How can Christianity defend itself in this culture?”

Influenced by Neoplatonism, Augustine assumed that angels were purely spiritual and therefore incapable of physical interaction. That assumption came from philosophy, not from the Hebrew Bible. Rather than adjust his philosophy to fit Scripture, Augustine adjusted Scripture to fit philosophy. The result was the Sethite interpretation—a reading that removed supernatural rebellion, removed imprisoned angels, and removed cosmic consequences. //

Instead of submitting to Scripture and allowing it to reshape assumptions about reality, the Church reshaped Scripture so it would align with dominant intellectual norms. Over time, believers forgot that this was ever a choice. Tradition hardened into “what the Bible says,” even when it conflicted with what the Bible actually meant. //

Missler approached Scripture as a unified system. He argued that Genesis 6 was not an oddity, but a strategic moment in a cosmic war—one that echoes forward into Daniel, the Gospels, and Revelation. His warning was simple but unsettling: if the Bible opens with supernatural rebellion, it should not surprise us when it closes the same way. Missler’s work forced Christians to grapple with the scope of the biblical story. //

If the Bible is only about human morality, then Jesus is only a moral solution.
But if the Bible is about cosmic rebellion and restoration, then Jesus is far more than a teacher or example—He is the rightful ruler reclaiming a world that was stolen.

The loss of this story didn’t make Christianity stronger.
It made it smaller.

Recovering it does not mean chasing speculation or abandoning doctrine. It means having the humility to admit that, at one point in history, the Church chose cultural survival over biblical honesty—and that decision still shapes what many believers are taught today.

The Bible was not written to sound reasonable to every age.
It was written to tell the truth about reality.

And that reality, from Genesis to Revelation, is far more supernatural—and far more meaningful—than most Sunday School lessons ever dared to admit.

Luke does not say Mary and Joseph were turned away. He says the guest room was already full. //

So when Luke tells us that the child was laid in a manger, he is likely not moving the story into a detached stable. He is describing a practical detail within a lived-in household. The scene remains humble, but it is no longer marginal. It is domestic, crowded, and human. //

Seen this way, Mary was not relegated to a stable because there was “no room.” She was placed where birth customarily happened, in a space set apart for dangerous, necessary, and sacred work, surrounded by competent women.

Once the household is understood as full, the courtyard as a customary birth space, and women as the necessary attendants, the setting of the Nativity no longer appears improvised. It appears normal. //

Nothing in Luke requires the manger to be symbolic in the moment. It is enough that it is specific. The sign given to the shepherds works because it is ordinary and recognizable.

Later Christians could not help noticing the resonance: the Lamb of God first laid where animals were fed and protected. Luke does not spell this out. The meaning emerges over time, once the whole story is known. //

The Nativity is populated almost entirely by liminal figures — people who live and work at boundaries.

Women attend the birth because childbirth itself is liminal, poised between life and death. Shepherds receive the announcement because they live between settled society and wilderness, handling blood, birth, injury, and loss as part of daily life. They are neither elites nor outsiders, but something in between, ritually ambiguous, socially peripheral, and practically indispensable.

The Magi arrive later, and for a different reason. They are not guardians of fragile life, but boundary-crossers between cultures and nations. They do not belong at a birth, but at a recognition.

The shepherds witness the child’s arrival into life; the Magi recognize his meaning for the world. One belongs at a birth. The other belongs at a throne.

This is not accidental staging. Liminal moments require liminal witnesses, people accustomed to ambiguity, risk, and transition. The story does not begin in palaces or temples because it is not about maintaining established power. It is about the arrival of someone who will cross boundaries without destroying them.

Jesus himself is the ultimate boundary figure: fully human and fully divine; clean, yet willing to touch the unclean; alive yet destined to pass through death. From the beginning, his life occupies contested space.

Christmas and the Restoration of Order

This pattern of thresholds and careful crossings is not an innovation introduced at Christmas. It is a restoration.

The opening chapters of Genesis describe a world ordered by distinction rather than domination. Creation unfolds through separations: light from darkness, land from sea, heaven from earth. These boundaries are not barriers. They are the conditions that make life possible. //

The Incarnation does not abandon the human order. It inhabits it fully, dangerously, and honestly. God enters the world where life has always entered it: through women, within households, surrounded by risk and love, attended by those who know how to guard what is fragile.

When Christmas is seen this way, nothing essential is lost but much is restored. The story becomes larger, more human, and more demanding, and in that fullness, more joyful than the thin version we repeat by rote.

The Three Bible Timelines: Why and How They Differ
February 25, 2013

Last updated on November 3rd, 2015 at 01:48 pm

The three most widely used Bible Timelines are:

• Ussher’s Chronology: included in the margins of the Authorized King James Bible is based on the Masoretic text of the Hebrew Old Testament. The Masoretic text had an unbroken history of careful transcription for centuries.

• Thiele: a modern Biblical chronologist whose work is accepted by secular Egyptologists as well as biblical scholars – often used by modern Evangelicals.

• The Septuagint: on which the Catholic Bible is based, is the Koine Greek version of the Hebrew Bible translated between 300 BC and 1 BC.

Most people who try to compute a Bible timeline are faced with the same dilemmas. The Rvd. Professor James Barr, a Scottish Old Testament scholar, has identified three distinct periods that Ussher, and all biblical chronologists had to tackle:

• Early times (Creation to Solomon). Anyone who starts out reading the Bible with Genesis, as many people do, can easily compute the years from Adam to Solomon.

• Early Age of Kings (Solomon to the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem and the Babylonian captivity). Now we have gaps in the record.

• Late Age of Kings (Ezra and Nehemiah to the birth of Jesus). Here events are just mentioned with no possible way to link or calculate time frames. Historians use well known secular kings or events mentioned in the Bible (i.e., Nebuchadnezzar) to calculate the Bible dates.

Modern climate politics treats humanity like an invasive species.

We’re told we consume too much, build too much, develop too much, and emit too much. The message is clear: human beings are the problem, and the earth must be protected from us.

But that is not Christianity.

It’s not even close.

For 3,000 years, the Judeo-Christian worldview taught something radically different—that humans are image-bearers designed to create, cultivate, innovate, and build. The very first job description in Scripture is found in Genesis 1:28:

“Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over every living thing.”

To modern ears, “subdue” and “dominion” sound imperial. To ancient readers, they meant responsibility, stewardship, cultivation, and development. The earth was not a fragile deity to tiptoe around; it was a raw, untamed gift meant to be worked, shaped, and stewarded for human flourishing.

And here’s where the climate debate goes off the rails.

If you believe Genesis, then energy is not a moral liability—it is the means by which humans fulfill their mandate. Energy is how you lift the poor, feed nations, sustain families, run hospitals, build infrastructure, and create the conditions for long-term stability and—ironically—environmental improvement.

Yet the climate movement has turned this mandate upside down. It demands sacrifice, limitation, and deprivation in the name of “saving the planet.” The message to the world’s poor is simple: stay poor a little longer so the West can feel environmentally virtuous. //

If you want to solve poverty, you don’t throttle energy. You expand it. You diversify it. You make it abundant and affordable. The cleanest nations on earth became clean because they became rich first. Wealth creates environmental capacity. Poverty destroys it.

The Christian view is simple: the earth was given to humanity to cultivate, not fear. The resources here are meant to be used responsibly, not locked away because climate bureaucrats believe modern prosperity is a moral sin.

The climate debate will never make sense until we recover the foundational truth Genesis established: human beings were meant to build. Meant to advance. Meant to subdue the earth—not as tyrants, but as stewards.

The earth is not a god to appease.

It is a garden to cultivate.

If you want the environment to thrive, let people thrive first.

For nearly two millennia, the Holy Bible has been translated, retranslated, and adapted into countless languages and versions. Each translation reflects not only linguistic scholarship but also the theological, cultural, and historical context of its time. From ancient Greek and Latin manuscripts to modern digital editions, the story of Bible translation is a fascinating journey through human civilization itself.

This comprehensive guide explores the most influential and widely-used Bible translations, examining their historical origins, translation philosophies, and lasting impact on Christian faith and scholarship.

We are only what we are in the dark; all the rest is reputation. What God looks at is what we are in the dark—the imaginations of our minds; the thoughts of our heart; the habits of our bodies; these are the things that mark us in God’s sight.

• The Love of God—The Ministry of the Unnoticed, 669 L

By whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world. — Galatians 6:14

If I brood on the Cross of Christ, I do not become a subjective pietist, interested in my own whiteness; I become dominantly concentrated on Jesus Christ’s interests. Our Lord was not a recluse nor an ascetic, He did not cut Himself off from society, but He was inwardly disconnected all the time. He was not aloof, but He lived in an other world. He was so much in the ordinary world that the religious people of His day called Him a glutton and a winebibber. Our Lord never allowed anything to interfere with His consecration of spiritual energy.

The counterfeit of consecration is the conscious cutting off of things with the idea of storing spiritual power for use later on, but that is a hopeless mistake. The Spirit of God has spoiled the sin of a great many, yet there is no emancipation, no fullness in their lives. The kind of religious life we see abroad to-day is entirely different from the robust holiness of the life of Jesus Christ. “I pray not that Thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that Thou shouldest keep them from the evil.” We are to be in the world but not of it; to be disconnected fundamentally, not externally.

We must never allow anything to interfere with the consecration of our spiritual energy. Consecration is our part, sanctification is God’s part; and we have deliberately to determine to be interested only in that in which God is interested.