The podcast web site is Coffee Cup Apologetics.

Those of us who appreciate Ravi Zacharias as a mentor and teacher have enjoyed these books even as we realize the limitations of each one. The conversations are created from texts and teachings of Christianity and the religion/philosophy being examined. The little books aren’t great literature, but they are a clever way to get to the heart of another worldview and the claims of Jesus. Keep your expectations low if you are looking for a comprehensive discussion, but you will be surprised at what useful apologetic tools each one can be.

What I have appreciated about each book is that Zacharias creates a portrait of Jesus that is relevant to the discussion at hand, but that goes beyond that discussion to the questions of every person. Some readers may not like the idea of Jesus as a fictional character, but I think Zacharias does a great job of anticipating what Jesus would say and how he would relate to every person.

This book explores the teachings of Hinduism and so is the most complex of the series so far. Even Zacharias’ own Indian background as a guide, Hinduism is still a daunting and confusing set of beliefs that are completely alien to the western mind and heart. Prepare to read several things twice and to be puzzled at much of Krishna’s teaching.

But the book does communicate what it is about the eastern worldview that does appeal, and particularly what it is that Christ offers to that distinctive way of understanding life.

It is Hinduism’s complexity, legalism, violence, contradictions, mystery and antiquity that have drawn many westerners to it or its various new age variations. New Birth or Rebirth presents the reader with the clear superiority of Christ, not only on the level of apologetic questions, but as is so true of Zacharias’ apologetic method, also on the level of experiential longing and true humanity.

This book will likely not convert any Hindus that you know, but it could provide a wonderful way to open the door to curiosity about Christ with the many Indians now living in the west. It is, as is the rest of the series, readable, humorous, and brief enough to use in a small group or class.

I recommend the entire series. (And I lament that the conversation with Mohammad was not published, though I understand why.)

The reviewer received a copy of the book.

Interest in Rwanda is also increasing as more American Anglicans find themselves in the Anglican Mission in America family, where Archbishop Kolini provides pastoral leadership. Many AMiA pastors and people have journeyed to Rwanda, have received Rwandan visitors and feel a bond to this country. Resources on the church in Rwanda and its particular opportunities are also rare.

Christ Walks Where Evil Reigned is a brief, straightforward book that gives a full account of the causes of the Rwandan genocide, the social, political and cultural forces at work in the event, and the opportunities for healing and ministry that exist today. Archbishop Kolini and professor Holmes combine their knowledge to give a clear and helpful picture of tragedy and hope.

Christ Walks can be read and understood by any high school level reader. The authors do not dwell on morbid detail or emotional manipulation. They want the world to understand all of the diverse elements that combined to see almost a million people killed in 100 days, and how this event implicated the failures of the church and gave rise to opportunities for the church.

Christ Walks can be read in a few hours and will reward to reader with an understanding on African Christianity, the complex roots of racism, the lingering effects of colonialism and the present needs of the Rwandan people.

I highly recommend this book for anyone interested in Africa, Rwanda, African Christianity or mercy ministries. Well written and helpful.

I was supplied a review copy of this book.

Whatever divides us emotionally from other Bible-believing, Christ-honoring Christians is a “plus” we’re adding to the gospel. It is the Galatian impulse of self-exaltation. It can even become a club with which we bash other Christians, at least in our thoughts, to punish, to exclude and to force into line with us.

What unifies the church is the gospel. What defines the gospel is the Bible. What interprets the Bible correctly is a hermeneutic centered on Jesus Christ crucified, the all-sufficient Savior of sinners, who gives himself away on terms of radical grace to all alike. What proves that that gospel hermeneutic has captured our hearts is that we are not looking down on other believers but lifting them up, not seeing ourselves as better but grateful for their contribution to the cause, not standing aloof but embracing them freely, not wishing they would become like us but serving them in love (Galatians 5:13).

My Reformed friend, can you move among other Christian groups and really enjoy them? Do you admire them? Even if you disagree with them in some ways, do you learn from them? What is the emotional tilt of your heart – toward them or away from them? If your Reformed theology has morphed functionally into Galatian sociology, the remedy is not to abandon your Reformed theology. The remedy is to take your Reformed theology to a deeper level. Let it reduce you to Jesus only. Let it humble you. Let this gracious doctrine make you a fun person to be around. The proof that we are Reformed will be all the wonderful Christians we discover around us who are not Reformed. Amazing people. Heroic people. Blood-bought people. People with whom we are eternally one – in Christ alone.

There’s a lot of things I’d like to say, but this is so good that I’m just going to leave it alone…which I’m pretty sure some quarters of the blogosphere won’t be able to do.

Intro music by Rhodes. Closing music by Randy Stonehill.

Element Community’s Bold As Love Vision.

Pirate Christian Radio. And our sponsor, New Reformation Press.

Tomorrow, my eight weeks of sabbatical are over.

Tomorrow I’ll check my voice mail for the first time in eight weeks. I hate voice mail. (Fellow employees reading this- please send me an email, not a voice mail.)

Tomorrow I’ll get my schedule book and GTY lists back out for the first time in eight weeks. I’ll start sending messages, making calls, planning schedules, preparing to preach, being who I am.

Tomorrow people will hand me applications folders to review, questions to answer, problems to solve. I’m not eager for any of them, but they are coming anyway.

I’ll go to my office and my classroom and see what needs to be done to return to normal and be ready for the start of a new school year in a month.

I’ll discover how little my absence mattered and how others have taken chunks of my job as their own. Maybe they’ll give it back. Maybe I won’t want it back.

People will begin asking me questions.

“Did you enjoy your sabbatical?” Yes, very much.

“Did you do everything you wanted to do?” I had a list, and I did almost everything I set out to do. Not a perfect score, but close.

“Are you renewed, revived and rejuvenated?” That’s a complex question.

I’m rested, but rest never lasts very long in the stresses of my life.

Revived? I’ve come to a better place in my relationship with God. When I started my sabbatical, I was bitter, angry and confused. I don’t have any more answers, and the impact of my wife’s conversion to Roman Catholicism is still disorienting and painful. But I’ve been reminded that we can be so hurt and anxious that we don’t receive what God has for us in the moment. God had something for me in taking so much away from me. Over sabbatical I’ve been able to receive some of what God has for me.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to be part of a church alone in the same way I was when Denise was with me. But I do know that I’ve grieved that situation enough to begin moving in some new directions. I’m able to function as a believer and as a preacher/teacher/writer. I’m excited about leading worship with the students at out ministry. I’m seeking out fellowship with the church around me. I believe that God is trustworthy, even if I don’t understand why things have happened as they have, he will lead me to pastures of his choosing. Hopefully, I’ll cooperate.

I’ve spent a lot of time reading Wendell Berry and Abraham Heschel. Each has given me a concept of sabbath, both in time and in space. They’ve reminded me to pay attention to what is here and not to be so anxious about what isn’t here.

I’ve spent a week and a half submerged in the rhythms and liturgy of baseball. For me, that isn’t indulgence in sports. It is soul restoration.

For the majority of these 8 weeks, I’ve backed away completely from the familiar spiritual paths that I work and travel on. I’ve withdrawn into a kind of spiritual wilderness where I’ve become reconvinced of the priority of the Holy Spirit. I’ve emptied so that I could be full, and as a result, I am full in a new and better way.

I’m reminded of how many of my coworkers and fellow Christians are weary, worn, unappreciated, loyal, hard-working and persevering. They should have had a sabbatical as well.

I’m reminded that when my expectations of the church, of leaders and of other Christians get too high, I am predictably disappointed. I should know better, and I’ll remember that.

But I am still me, still have my besetting sins and struggles. What I’ve had is more time to know that God loves me, and that his faithfulness and delight in me are unconditional gifts.

That has all been reviving and rejuvenating in the best possible way.

So I’ll return to ministry and a regular schedule tomorrow and pray that the sabbath comes with me. I’ll mark the place of sabbath in my day and each week, and I’ll fill it with what I’ve experiences these eight weeks.

I don’t expect anyone to understand the experience, but I’ll be grateful for each one who asks. Many have prayed for me, and their prayers were answered.

I’d glad to be home and glad to find my routine waiting for me. I believe God has other surprises for me in the future, and I’ll remember this one when those come along the way.

In its place we have a lot of songs that a lot of people don’t know, a lot of bad and unknown tunes, a lot of watching the worship team perform (especially if they are female of the right type and dress), a lot of forgettable, narcissistic lyrics, a lot of bad and inexperienced worship leaders, a lot of bone-headed thinking about congregational singing in relation to church growth, a lot of imitation of churches and methods that most congregations can’t imitate, a lot of lay people who simply don’t know how to sing at all, a lot of churches that don’t teach singing, a lot of turning congregations into audiences anyway and whatever else goes into the stew that does away with congregational singing.

That’s not to say some movements in evangelicalism aren’t doing a great job promoting congregational singing in many good ways, including taking the time to teach singing. But as a whole, we’re on our way to pretty much what you have on The Letterman Show. The band plays and Dave comes out with the monologue.

Congregational singing is a New Covenant command. That means that it’s commanded in the New Testament’s description of gathered worship. If we replace that with performance, it’s a major loss on several levels, not the least being the level of teaching and encouragement specifically mentioned in the epistles.

I like a lot of contemporary worship music, but as a whole the content is different than the best older music. It’s designed for expressive presentation and not as much for edification through musical teaching or mutual encouragement. So you can have a lot of “You are holy!” and “I will worship,” as opposed to four or five verses describing the incarnation or considerations of the meaning of salvation.

We all lose in this, but I always think of the losses to two groups in particular. First of all, older people (assuming you still allow them to come to your church) treasure the words that have been part of their journey. While the young turks are all about the new music, the older Christians really need to hear the soundtrack of their journey, which is hymns for the most part. And secondly, we have a lot of children who know Veggietales and don’t know “It Is Well With My Soul.” That’s an unspeakable, horrendously stupid loss and if I catch you advocating it, I will be tempted to harm you.

Of course, the irony is that the canon of music in a good hymnal represents the greatest source of diversity, history and artistic excellence present in most congregations. The songs/lyrics come from various traditions, different eras, throughout history and embody differing styles and cultures. Look at the Christmas section of a good hymnal. From ancient chants to spirituals to contemporary hymns, it’s diversity and beauty. Plus, most of them- not all- are singable in a way that builds up mind and heart.

I realize the people who want to worship with K-Love and equate a concert response with congregational worship will do what they always do when I write this kind of post: tell me how much they hate the hymns blah blah blah. For God’s sake people, THINK before you throw out the treasures. Calvin whitewashed the churches and contemporary evangelicals are making the same mistake with music.

It’s not all about you. Even with a good, practical commitment to be culturally appropriate, you can conserve the 100 best hymns. If you need help, get help. If you have to have it contemporary style, see Kevin Twit’s Indelible Grace project at RUF.

I expect that congregational singing as I grew up with it - and I grew up being taught required music class in public school through the 7th grade- is going to vanish in the lifetime of my grandchildren. To the extent that it’s going on now, it’s one of the worst things evangelicals are doing. Go to mass at a suburban parish some Sunday and listen to what happened to congregational singing after Vatican II. Then remember this: Evangelical singing MADE the Reformation and especially the Wesleyan revival and has been one of the greatest conservators of the Gospel in evangelicalism. The music matters and being able to sing it matters as well. Use contemporary instruments. Use blended styles. Be creative, but keep the good, singable treasures of our musical heritage.

And learn how to sing them.

The first book is Tom Davis’s Confessions of a Good Christian Guy, a book that rings the bell for one of my favorite topics: transparency and vulnerability in Christian community.

I have a lot of books for Christian men and one of my all time favorites is When Men Think Private Thoughts by Gordon Macdonald. Written in the aftermath of his own episode of brokenness and public humiliation as a minister, husband and Christian leader, Macdonald wrote one of his best books, full of honest insight from someone who had come to know his own soul and the mercy of God through pain, loss and repentance.

Davis has also been there, going to prison for drug use and admitting that his life as a “good Christian” guy was full of secrets that led to his downfall. After Davis’s own story, the book uses the stories of other men and various other destructive and addictive issues to help “good Christian guys” avoid the same problems, rebuild after failure and/or create accountability and community to help one another on the journey.

This is a book with a large dose of raw reality and honesty. Some of these issues and much of the discussion isn’t the kind of polite rhetoric you typically hear in church. This is a book well-written for guys by a guy and it doesn’t pull punches. What it may give up in depth it makes up for in honesty.

If you have a Samson Society, a Men’s group or are simply on the journey to self discovery and wholeness as a Christian man, this is a book you’ll want to have and use. It will stimulate a lot of honesty, and that will raise other potentially controversial issues, so handle with care if you use this in church.

The other recommended book is the very interesting and helpful Good Intentions by Charles North and Bob Smietana, a book that explores nine contemporary social and economic issues through the worldview of Christian faith and practical economics. North is an attorney and professor of economics at Baylor. Smietana is a reporter and contributor on the coverage of religion at several publications, including The Tennessean.

Good Intentions is a unique book that would be especially useful and appreciated in a setting where young professionals or those preparing for the world of work are looking to integrate their discipleship and economics. It’s the kind of discussion we really need to have in churches but generally avoid as “too secular.” North and Smietana have produced a set of basic economic case studies, all approaching “hot button” issues with the questions of Christian faith at the center. They are well written, full of interesting data and engaging.

Right now it’s probably one of the few books with a chapter devoted to a Christian analysis of high gas prices. Their approach in every chapter is to mix solid data, case study analysis and a focus on the issues of a Christian response. The results will surprise many of their readers, particularly those whose focus has been more on good intentions rather than good results.

North and Smietana will show you how economists analyze issues of poverty, but they will also explore the issue of what actually works in each situation. For that reason, some more liberal/progressive readers may find some of their sacred cows are being taken out and shot. This is precisely the kind of book that defies easy and predictable categories to be informative, helpful, provocative and seriously Christian. (I really wanted to read a chapter called “OK Bishop Wright, That’s Great, But Will It WORK?”)

Of course, everyone won’t agree with the approach or conclusions of these writers, but if you are an evangelical wanting to have substantial discussions on issues like immigration, the minimum wage, capitalism, education, poverty and so on, this is a very helpful and user-friendly resource. I’ll be using it with my high school students in showing how the Bible interacts with economic issues in a surprisingly different way than they have probably ever heard.

I recommend both of these books to those doing topical discussions with small groups. Both are excellent and worth your investment of time and money.

(I received review copies of both books.)

I’ve got a lot of brief book reviews to write in the next few weeks to catch up after sabbatical, but I don’t want to pass up recommending an exceptional wonder of a book written by Barbara Brown Taylor called Leaving Church.

Taylor is one of the finest preachers/writers I’ve ever heard/read. Her prose is beautiful. It flows with verbal energy and magical descriptions. You will rarely read a more skillful artist with language than Taylor. Her collections of sermons show us an elegant prose writer-preacher with few peers. If you are a writer prone to the sin of envy, you’ll sin boldly with this book around.

So what’s with Leaving Church? That’s what I said when I first heard of the book. The story is simple. After years of conversion and gradually being drawn into the Episcopal ministry, Taylor was ordained and eventually become priest at a historic parish outside of Atlanta.

After 5 and a half years of fruitful, effective ministry, Taylor left the pastorate to teach religion at a small college, and has never returned to the church except as an occasional guest preacher.

This book is that story, told with all the detail and wonderful description of a personal faith journey that can make this kind of narrative compelling. And it is compelling, not because of tragedy or embracing atheism, but because Barbara Brown Taylor describes the story of thousands of us in the post-evangelical wilderness.

I know she was a liberal ECUSA rector, not an evangelical, but Taylor’s journey will speak deeply to those of you who are currently- as she describes it- camping somewhere on the church grounds rather than sitting inside.

This is a book told with love about a kind of “growing up” in the Christian faith to discover the difference between trusting and knowing, between God as an answer and God as endless fountain of love and life. Taylor’s story of leaving church is a story of a loss of a kind of faith- and I’m been direly warned of this- but it is the story of the rediscovery of a deeper, wider, more ancient, more generous faith.

If you aren’t a pastor, parts of this book will be somewhat outside your experience. If you aren’t at least familiar with the world of liturgy, you may be a bit puzzled in places. But this is a writer whom you will care about deeply and will identify with over and over again. I have twenty pages dog-eared with exceptional sections and quotes.

Taylor’s description of rediscovering her priesthood outside of the church and the difference between those who are in church and those who have chosen to be, at least somewhat, out is told with generous helpings of empathy and confession. Coming to terms with what it’s been like to be loved and raised by “Mother Church” is something many of us need to hear.

I don’t identify with some of Taylor’s theology, but on this pilgrim journey, she’s shone a light on the path with one of the most accessible, appealing and helpful books I’ve read the last decade.

Purely exceptional. And no one gave me a copy to say that. I bought it myself.

Taylor writes for Christian Century and this column gives you a small taste of the book. Books and Culture had a good review if you’d like to know more.

Catechism of the Catholic Church 847 This affirmation is not aimed at those who, through no fault of their own, do not know Christ and his Church:

“Those who, through no fault of their own, do not know the Gospel of Christ or his Church, but who nevertheless seek God with a sincere heart, and, moved by grace, try in their actions to do his will as they know it through the dictates of their conscience - those too may achieve eternal salvation.”

My wife and I have an agreement to not discuss Catholic/Evangelical differences, but if we were talking about those differences, I’d want to immediately talk about what the Roman Catholic Church teaches must be believed regarding the salvation of other religions and non-believers.

Religious Tolerance.org has a page summarizing this issue, which I’m sure many RC friends will find less than acceptable, but it does get to the heart of the issue and it quotes several papal documents and church councils. Please read that page before continuing.

James White (I know, I know) played a clip from Catholic Answers today (episode 20080708, last 8-10 minutes) and Catholic Apologist Jimmy Akin answers a phone question on purgatory with a clear affirmation that those who are atheists “through no fault of their own” do not have a “broken friendship” with God.

A Catholic Answers page on the subject ends with this statement:

As was stated recently in Dominus Iesus, those outside the Church have a salvific link to the Church, through which all salvation comes. What that link is exactly hasn’t been revealed to us. But we do know that it exists: Scripture and Tradition attest to its existence.

A dialog at the same site says much the same thing: salvation through the church is available outside the church through means we don’t understand.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church has several things to say on this, reprinted here at Beliefnet.

Several statements by Pope John Paul II seem to starkly proclaim a Roman Catholic view that non-Christians can be saved by following their own religions:

Normally, “it will be in the sincere practice of what is good in their own religious traditions and by following the dictates of their own conscience that the members of other religions respond positively to God’s invitation and receive salvation in Jesus Christ, even while they do not recognize or acknowledge him as their Saviour (cf. Ad gentes, nn. 3, 9, 11)” (Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue – Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Instruction Dialogue and Proclamation, 19 May 1991, n. 29; L’Osservatore Romano English edition, 1 July 1991, p. III).

And here.

“…We are to accept the kingdom of God in our hearts, and to bear witness to it by word and deed. The kingdom indicates the loving presence and activity of God in the world and should be a source of serenity and confidence to our lives. The Gospel teaches us that those who live in accordance with the beatitudes: the poor in spirit; the pure in heart; those who will lovingly [endure] the sufferings of life; will enter God’s kingdom. All who seek God with a sincere heart, including those who do not know Christ and His Church, contribute under the influence of grace, to the building of this kingdom. In the Lord’s prayer we say ‘Thy kingdom come’. May this be the hope that sustains us and inspires our Christian life and world.” (”Thy Kingdom is Grace,” Papal statement Wednesday, December 6th 2000.)

And the current Pope echoes these same sentiments.

We want to commend to St. Augustine a further meditation on our psalm. In it, the Father of the Church introduces a surprising element of great timeliness: He knows that also among the inhabitants of Babylon there are people who are committed to peace and the good of the community, despite the fact that they do not share the biblical faith, that they do not know the hope of the Eternal City to which we aspire. They have a spark of desire for the unknown, for the greatest, for the transcendent, for a genuine redemption.

And he says that among the persecutors, among the nonbelievers, there are people with this spark, with a kind of faith, of hope, in the measure that is possible for them in the circumstances in which they live. With this faith in an unknown reality, they are really on the way to the authentic Jerusalem, to Christ. (Commentary on Psalm 136, 2005, as reported by Zenit.)

I am as interested in a “wider hope” as anyone, and I have a real interest in the relation of Christianity and non-Christian religions. I’m not a typical fundamentalist on this issue, and I deal with atheists, Muslims and Buddhists constantly in my ministry.

Nonetheless, it appears to me that there is an issue here. So I have some questions that I’ll invite anyone to comment on (respectfully and without personal attack.)

1. Given the earlier statements of the church cited in the Religious Tolerance article and elsewhere, has the RCC changed its position or its articulation on the relationship of non-Christians to the church and the possibility of salvation? Is this confusing to anyone else?

5. Does the teaching of the Vatican II on this subject mean that those who are ignorant of the Gospel are closer to salvation than Protestants who reject the Roman Catholic Church as the means of salvation?