Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 125

Christian Biography Must Not Pass Over Blemishes

George Whitefield:

Biography, as one observes, is the best history; or, in other words, writing or reading the lives of great and good men is one of the most profitable and delightful kinds of history we can entertain ourselves with. For hereby we are convinced, that Wisdom’s ways are indeed ways of pleasantness, and being proved to be practicable by men of like passions with ourselves, we are insensibly allured to follow them as they followed Christ, and encouraged to run with patience the race set before us.

This, one would hope, is the grand end proposed by all such who undertake to draw the characters, or hand down to posterity the remarkable transactions of persons who have shined as lights in the church of God. Many have done worthily in this respect, and for this their labour of love, thousands as yet unborn shall rise and call them blessed.

But without detracting anything from their due praise, I cannot help observing, that in most of the lives that I have had an opportunity of perusing, there seems to be one deficiency, I could almost lay, common to them all. It is this: the writers of them seldom or never mention the blemishes or falls of those whose characters they exhibit. They emblazon their good, without so much as hinting at any of their bad qualities. In short, they paint them blameless, and by not mentioning any of their foibles, or the sins that did most easily beset them, they make them, as it were, equal to the angels of God, or rather to the Son of God himself, of whom alone it can truly be said that ‘he was without sin.’

Such a method, (however well meant, because we are more prone to imitate others’ vices than their virtues) to speak in the softest terms, is not according to the pattern shown us in the Mount. The scriptures set us a different copy. In those lively oracles, as in a well-drawn picture, we have both shade and light and at the same time as they paint out to us, in the most striking manner, the graces for which the holy men of old were most eminent, they also with an equally impartial had, expose to public view, not only the common infirmities, but even some to the most dreadful falls, with all their aggravating circumstances, of some of the greatest men of God that ever did, or will live, till time itself shall be no more. (The Sermons of George Whitefield, 387-388 [emphasis added])

 

 

A Sermon From Acts 3 for Those Who Killed Jesus

This Jesus of Nazareth—the one you saw, the one you knew, the one you crucified—he is more than you know. Jesus may not be what you expected, but he is better. He may not be what you were looking for, but he is bigger. Have you ever considered that what you saw in Jesus is not what God sees in Jesus?

You thought he was a false prophet, but according to Moses, he was the Prophet.

You spoke against him, but Samuel spoke of him.

You said his father was the Devil, but he was the promised son of Abraham.

You had no ears to hear his gospel, but the Lord God said to listen to him in whatever he tells you.

You considered him a blasphemer, but he was the Holy One of Israel.

You treated him wickedly, but he was the Righteous One of God.

You gave life to a murderer and murdered the Author of Life.

You handed him over to die; God raised him up from the dead.

You denied him before Pilate; God glorified him in heaven.

The One you delivered to the Romans, God has made your Deliverer.

Have you ever heard of a man like this? Can’t you hear him calling your name? Can’t you hear him speaking to you now through his word? If you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts. Now is the time to repent and believe. For the Savior you would not set free is mighty to save, even for you.

What Am I Doing When I Vote?

I’m glad that TGC is coordinating a series of blogs about some “first principles” to consider when thinking about politics (e.g., Baker, Smethurst, Forster). While I fully agree (and have often said from the pulpit) that the kingdom of God does not depend on elections and will not be ushered in by politicians, I believe Christian involvement in politics, or at least some understanding of the parties, the candidates, and the issues, is absolutely critical. Because we have all seen unthinking allegiance to a certain candidate or party, we can be overly reticent to talk about politics at all, let alone put forward a reasoned view on the political process. But political abdication and utter silence is not the right corrective to political idolatry, nor does it further the common good when Christians disengage for fear of being labeled with this wing or that.

My topic in this series is to think through a philosophy of voting. As with all these posts, my aim is not to tell you whom to vote for or even how to think about every issue, but rather to put in place some foundational ideas that will help us approach politics intelligently and wisely.

The Case for a Functional View of Voting

It’s important at the outset to remember what we are voting for. In our American system we will go to the polls in November and vote for many things: a president, a representative (at the state and federal level), possibly a senator or governor, maybe a mayor or drain commissioner. We’ll probably vote on a number of proposals, referenda, and tax increases. But we won’t be voting for our next pastor or who will we have dinner with next Friday. We won’t be voting on a confession of faith or a statement of Christology. We’ll be voting for politicians and for political proposals.

This is not to suggest that we must sequester politics from “spiritual things” and have no business bringing our faith into the voting booth. My point is simply that we must remember what we are doing (and not doing) on the first Tuesday in November. We aren’t making a vow or binding our conscience to any person or position. We are not making a declaration that we love this candidate and agree with him (or her) from top to bottom. Rather, we are casting a vote for the common good. As strangers and aliens in this world, we approach every Election Day as an opportunity seeking the welfare of our earthly city (Jer. 29:7). So when we draw those straight lines or punch through those hanging chads we ought to have this question in mind: “How can I, with my vote, best advance what I believe to be the proper role and goals of government?”

Some Christians may object here and say, “You’ve got it all wrong. Our aim should be to honor Christ and glorify God.” And that’s certainly true—in voting as in all of life. But part of honoring Christ means instituting and advancing a form of government which pleases him. Obviously, this pushes us back to even firster first principles and this post is not primarily about the role and goals of government. But let’s suppose that your idea of government is largely in tune with the Founding Fathers and you believe that government should “establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity” (Preamble to the Constitution). If you want government to protect the rights granted by God, protect us from enemies foreign and domestic, and protect the rule of law, then you ought to vote in the way that best advances that agenda.

In other words, I’m arguing for a functional view of voting. My vote is one tiny way that my views on government and the good life (which hopefully have some correspondence with God’s views) can be advanced. What matters most is not my voting experience or what I fear it might say in some abstract way. What matters is what my vote actually does. That’s why I’ve been using the word “advance.” It’s possible to vote for a person or party that most closely aligns with my values and not actually do anything to advance what I value.

Compromise may be deadly in theology, but it’s part and parcel of politics. As we ponder the perfect president and imagine the wonderful policies we would put in place, we have to plant our feet firmly on the ground and determine how to best accomplish what we want with our one vote. Prudence is no enemy of principle and incrementalism does not mean death to our ideals. There is no reason our consciences should be stricken by voting for imperfect parties and imperfect candidates. We aren’t voting on a new clause to the Nicene Creed. We are–as a municipality, state, or nation–determining who will make our laws, defend them, and carry them out.

This choice will almost always require Christians to weigh bad against better and do without what is best. The cynics may snort their incredulity and the apathetic may disbelieve in the ability of politics to accomplish anything worthwhile, but, as Clarke Forsythe argues in Politics for the Greatest Good, “there is no moral compromise when we make the aim of politics not the perfect good but the greatest good possible” (11-12). Small victories plus realistic strategy plus perseverance can make a tremendous difference over time. Hope is not delusional and change can come, but we have to work within the limits of what is possible. What honors God more, working hard and using our brains to put man into flight, or jumping off a cliff and hoping to fly because you believe God is capable of giving you wings? You may think John Piper would make the best president, but writing in “John Piper” every four years does absolutely nothing to advance all the virtues and ideas you like about John Piper. You end up feeling good without doing good, which is not a particularly helpful way to approach voting in a fallen world.

A Further Explanation

This may sound like nothing more than the “lesser of two evils” philosophy. And in a way it is, but with a few important qualifications.

First, we should be careful with the cliché itself. Even if, to use the most obvious example, Romney and Obama seem like lame choices to you, is it really the case that both are positive “evils”? I strongly disagree with each of them on certain matters of policy and theology, but before we describe every choice with this well-worn aphorism, we should consider what words we have left for the Stalins and Hitlers of the world if two decent family men can be reduced to nothing but “two evils.”

Second, we should realize that if we vote at all we are voting for less than our ideal candidate. As long as Jesus isn’t on the ballot every Christian is voting for someone less than our perfect candidate. And, no, this does not mean we should literally vote for Jesus as President. It’s a stunt that accomplishes nothing except for impressing people who are too easily impressed.

Third, a functional approach to voting does not mean we can ignore matters of character and morality in favor of candidates who promise to “git ‘er done.” If a candidate is corrupt or untrustworthy, if his moral compass is always spinning and his grasp of right and wrong is slippery, we should have little confidence in his ability to govern wisely or seek the common good.

Fourth, a functional view of voting does not mean we should only and always vote for one of the two major party candidates. I think it means, at least at present, that in most races the wisest course of action is almost always to vote Republican or Democrat. Whether we like it or not, it’s the Republicans and Democrats—not the Green Party or the Constitution Party—who will advance (or destroy) your vision for government and the common good. Having said that, there may be occasions where you conclude that your vision can best be advanced in the long run by not voting for one of the two major parties. For example, suppose you vote Republican your whole life and then the Republicans nominate a pro-choice candidate for president. You might conclude that even if you always vote Republican, you won’t this year, so that the GOP candidate will lose badly and the party won’t nominate a pro-choice candidate the next time around. Or maybe you vote for an obscure third-party candidate, knowing he won’t win, but sensing that enough people are behind him that a good showing at the polls could help a third party break into our political system. This is especially tempting when the political race in question is already in the bag for one of the two major parties. That is to say, a liberal in New York who wants to advance a liberal agenda might be excused for voting for the Green Party candidate where a liberal in Ohio would be less wise to do so.

Conclusion

Here’s the bottom line: when we vote as Christians we should do so with a healthy dose of some eschatological “not yet.” This doesn’t mean we always vote for the “lesser of two evils.” But it does mean we should consider the function of our vote, not only the ethical motivation behind it. Paradoxically, it’s only when we embrace the realities of our political system and swallow hard on the flaws of our candidates that we can begin to honor our noble and lofty ideals. A vote counts for what it does, not for what we want it to mean or how it makes us feel.

Monday Morning Humor

I don’t know how many people actually switch to Geico, but they do make some clever commercials.

Are You Really Personally Opposed if You Won’t Call it Wrong?

Abraham Lincoln didn’t think so:

You say that you think slavery is wrong, but you denounce all attempts to restrain it. Is there anything else you think wrong, that you are not willing to deal with as a wrong?

Why are you so careful, so tender of this wrong and no other? You will not let us do a single thing as if it was wrong, there is no place where you will allow it to even be called wrong!

We must not call in wrong in the Free States, because it is not there, and we not call it wrong in the Slave States because it is there; we must not call it wrong in politics because that is bring morality into politics, and we must not call it wrong in the pulpit because that is bringing politics into religion. . . .and there is no single place, according to you, where a wrong thin can be called a wrong thing! (Quoted in D.A. Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance, 105).

Putting In a Good Word for Presbyterianism

Last week I was at Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. for some meetings. I always love visiting CHBC, not only because I have many friends there, but because it’s one of the best models of faithful church ministry I’ve seen anywhere.

Soon after I arrived last week—and before my meetings began—I was led up to Mark Dever’s study where he was meeting with several interns and staff members. Mark asked the interns if they had any questions for me before I had to leave. One thoughtful, and somewhat incredulous, student asked if I really thought the keys of the kingdom were given to the officers of the church and not to the church as a whole. I admit I was caught off guard to be suddenly thrown into a deep discussion of polity (though being with Mark I shouldn’t have been surprised). I had just gotten off a plane; I wasn’t feeling well; and I’ve not often been pressed to defend my views on the keys of the kingdom. So I didn’t do much to help the student, except probably to confirm in his mind that Presbyterians don’t know what they’re talking about.

But here’s what I wish I would have said, not as a full blown defense of Presbyterian polity but as a few talking points among brothers and friends.

1. Congregationalists and Presbyterians can both agree that the authority inherent in the keys of the kingdom is the authority over the doctrine and discipline of the church (Matt. 16:19; 18:18-19). It is the power to affirm or deny that someone is a true Christian. It is the power to affirm or deny that a given statement is consistent with the Christian faith. Congregationalists believe this authority resides with the members of the church. Presbyterians believe this authority belongs to the officers of the church.

2. I hold to the Presbyterian position because of the overall New Testament teaching about eldership. The office of eldership is one of teaching and authority (1 Tim. 5:17), which is why the position is reserved for qualified men (1 Tim. 2:11-12; 3:1-7). Elder-pastors are given by Christ to be overseers and shepherds of the flock of God (Acts 20:28, Eph. 4:11). The leaders in Hebrews 13:17 who must watch over the souls of God’s people are almost certainly elders. We know from 1 Peter 5:2-3 that elders must exercise gracious oversight in the church. They are the under-shepherds serving and representing Christ, our Chief Shepherd and Overseer (1 Peter 1:25; 5:4). It is, therefore, everywhere in keeping with a biblical theology of eldership to have the elders of the church exercising the authority of the keys through preaching and discipline. In fact, it’s hard to imagine how the elders are to shepherd, govern, and protect as the New Testament commands if the final authority rests with the congregation and not with the officers who represent Christ in their midst.

3. While it’s true that the final step in the discipline process in Matthew 18 is “tell it to the church,” there’s no reason to think that “church” cannot refer to the church as she is represented by her officers. This has been the understanding of Calvin, the Heidelberg Catechism, the Westminster Standards and virtually every Presbyterian-Reformed theologian since the Reformation. Granted, the word ekklesia means gathering or assembly and most often refers in the New Testament to worldwide universal church or a local congregation. But the term is also used for more than one congregation, as in the church of Jerusalem, the church of Antioch, or the church throughout all Judea, Galilee, and Samaria. No doubt, there were many churches in these cities or regions (witness, for example, the thousands of converts being added in Jerusalem), and yet they can be described as ekklesia. This doesn’t prove Presbyterianism, but it does mean we should not equate ekklesia with nothing other than a local congregation. Indeed, the reference in Acts 15:22 to “the apostles and the elders, with the whole church” suggests that leaders from various congregations came together in the Jerusalem Council to make decisions for the wider body. This is the heartbeat of Presbyterian polity and reason to think “church” can mean in effect, “a subset of leaders who represent the whole.”

4. It’s also worth remembering that when Jesus spoke of discipline in Matthew 18 the reference point for the disciples would have been the Jewish synagogue. There were no churches as such. The only instances they understood of “telling it to the ekklesia” were the disciplinary procedures in Judaism which were carried out by the Sanhedrin and not by a vote of the worshipers gathered at the synagogue. It’s more plausible to think the apostles inherited the system of discipline-through-office-bearers they were familiar with than that they heard Jesus telling them to practice a form of Congregationalism that hadn’t existed, in congregations that didn’t exist yet.

5. I wonder if a latent Presbyterianism is already present, in practice, in many Congregational churches. Is there not an assumed intermediary step whereby the disciplinary matter is brought to the elders before it is told to the whole church? Few churches, I imagine, ask for conflicts and sins to be aired ex nihilo before the whole congregation without first having been handled by the elders. And yet that’s what Matthew sounds like if ekklesia means the whole gathered assembly. Even in Congregational churches the “tell it to the church” step usually means “tell it to the elders, who deal with the case for several months or years and then at a later juncture will bring their recommendation to the congregation to ratify their decision.” The Congregational process is similar to the Presbyterian process except the former ends with a congregational vote and includes an extra step in the discipline that, on their understanding, Jesus makes no mention of in the text.

6. One final word of clarification: the elders in a Presbyterianism system serve as Christ’s representatives and with Christ’s authority, but they are not mini-Christs. The presbyters do not have a blank check to decide whatever they want. The keys of the kingdom must always be tied to the King’s words. We should not make pronouncements or bind men’s consciences or exercise authority except in the matters clearly delineated in Scripture. And even where this authority ought to be exercised, the wise elder board will always try to inform the congregation and respond to their concerns.

This may not convince any of my wonderful congregational friends (and certainly won’t convince my non-wonderful ones!), but I sure do appreciate them asking the question. No one does better at taking ecclesiology seriously than 9Marks, Mark Dever, Jonathan Leeman, and all my good friends at CHBC.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones on the Question of Secession

In a 1947 address Lloyd-Jones was given the subject “The Position of Evangelicals in their Churches” and was asked to make reference to the question of secession. For all those presently in mixed denominations or associations, his questions for both those inclined to go and those inclined to stay are well worth considering and committing to prayer.

Those who are contemplating withdrawal or secession should ask themselves continually:

1.  Am I absolutely certain that Christ’s honour is really involved, or that my basic Christian liberties are threatened?

2.  Am I going out because it is easier, and am I following the line of least resistance?

3.  Am I going out because I am impatient?

4.  Am I going out because I am an egotist and cannot endure being a ‘Brother of the common lot’ with its disadvantages as well as its spiritual advantages?

Those who are staying in their Church should ask themselves:

1.  Am I staying in and not joining others who may be fighting the Lord’s battle because I am a coward?

2.  Am I staying in because I am trying to persuade myself that I am a man of peace and because peace seems to be worth any price?

3.  Am I staying in because I am just a vacillator or at a very low spiritual ebb?

4.  Am I swayed by some self-interest or any monetary consideration?

We must all pray without ceasing both for those who trouble us and for our own spiritual betterment. We must seek in prayer and with patience that we may by all means save some. We must flee ‘the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees’. We must shun all merely party spirit. ‘The servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth’ (2 Tim. 2:24, 25). (Iain H. Murray, D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones The Fight of Faith 1939-1981, 184)

Christ Will Have a Witness

The following is an excerpt from a recent sermon I preached on Acts 1:12-26. The prose has been slightly edited for ease of reading, but I’ve tried to retain the sermonic, spoken feel as much as possible.

*****

Who chose the first twelve disciples? Jesus.

You may recall that rabbis in that day, they didn’t go out choosing disciples. Disciples would come to them as and sort of petition, “Hey, can I enroll in your school?” But Jesus was different, he went out and said, “I want you, you, you, you.” Jesus even chose Judas. And now he chooses Mathias.

This was the Lord’s choice. No one is irreplaceable so long as Christ is still Lord. And isn’t it interesting that Luke’s gospel is the only one that mentions the story about Jesus coming into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday and meeting the Pharisees. They tell the disciples, “Hey stop singing. Stop shouting. Stop praising him.” And remember what Jesus says, “If they don’t praise me even the stones will cry out.” It is one of Luke’s themes. God will have a witness.

“Can I get a witness?” That’s what Acts is about. And Jesus says, “I will. I don’t care if you’re all shut up. I’ll get stones. If Judas leaves me, and I knew he would, I’ll get Mathias.”

Too often when preachers talk about the need for evangelism or for missions, it is presented in such a way that makes God look needy and us look heroic. But that’s not the way it is. God will save his people. God will get the word out. And he’ll find a Mathias to do it if no one else will. Christ will have his witnesses.

He does not call us to speak out because God is in a pinch. He calls us to speak out that we might have the privilege.

You can listen to the entire sermon and watch the whole thing here.

Seven Cautions for Eager Polemicists

“Polemic” comes from the Greek word for war. It refers to a contentious argument or controversy. A polemicist, therefore, is one who does not shy away from controversy but strenuously argues for his position, often trying to refute a rival position in the process.

I am not against polemics. It is a necessary virtue for Christians in so far as Christianity believes in the immovability and central importance of truth. Where would the church be today if Athanasius, Augustine, and Luther eschewed polemics? Christians must be willing to enter the fray and engage in controversy if they are to be faithful in a fallen world.

I also know there are many dangers with polemics. I see them in myself and can spot them (more easily, sadly) in others.

1. Polemicists can be over-sensitive to certain errors. Have you ever noticed that most Christians (at least the ones engaged in controversy) have one particular error they are particularly good at spotting? I admit that I tend to be most critical of liberal theology and liberalizing tendencies in the church. I’m sure this is owing, in part, to being taught liberal theology in college and being in a denomination where almost everyone is more liberal than I am. I think often this sensitivity to liberal trends helps me guard against error and protect others from the same. But it can also mean that I’m too quick to pounce on theological mistakes that are more in the category of “honest ignorance” than malicious mendacity.  For others, it may mean they are too eager to swing a large mallet every time a little fly of Arminianism (or Calvinism) or Egalitarianism (or Complementarianism) buzzes by.

2. Polemicists can be under-sensitive to other errors. Over the years I’ve had to learn that just because liberalism is a problem, it doesn’t mean the most conservative position is always the solution. It feels safest to swing as far away from our enemies as possible, but sometimes that only serves to push us into another mistake. I’ve come to appreciate (if that’s the right word) that liberalism isn’t the only mistake bedeviling the church. Some people are loveless, some don’t pray, some can’t get along with others, some are legalistic, some are antinomian, some get off track with justification, others with sanctification, others with end times nonsense, and on and on. A good pastor, or a good Christian for that matter, must have the maturity to see that theological dangers come in many shapes and sizes.

3. Polemicists can lose all sense of proportion. We all have a tendency to lock onto our “thing,” whether that thing is gender issues, homosexuality, doodling in worship, the regulative principle, church architecture, real wine at communion, the Trinity, the ordo salutis, the poor, or seeker sensitive churches. The problem is not with having convictions on all these things. I think many of the items in the list above are extremely important. Several get to the heart of the Christian faith. The problem is when every issue becomes as big as every other issue, so that family-integration, every week communion, and justification by faith alone are all equally essential to the gospel. It’s fine for the Lord to call us to fight certain fights in our day, but we must not assume every fight is as critical as every other.

4. Polemicists can see everything through a single lens. This is true across the theological spectrum. For some people everything comes back to gender roles. That’s their bread and butter. That’s what’s wrong with the world (on either side of the issue). Everything is about the empowerment of women or the assault of feminism. Other people can’t stop railing against revivalism and Charles Finney. For still others, everything is about confessionalism, or pietism, or polity. When I dove deep into the emergent church I vowed to myself that I would not be the anti-emergent guy my whole life. I did not want to see emergents under every rock and be dropping them into sermons and lectures for the next thirty years. They weren’t that important and I didn’t want to become that imbalanced. Some of us never learn to let go of old battles and we never learn there are other things worth fighting for.

5. Polemicists can be less than careful with their attacks. There is a tendency in controversy to oppose what we shouldn’t oppose just to make sure we can oppose what should be opposed. I’ve always thought that N.T. Wright’s correctives regarding Second Temple Judaism would be more helpful if he didn’t go out of his way so often, and in my opinion so carelessly, to take swipes at imputed righteousness, the Bush administration, and anyone who has ever believed in going to heaven when you die. Just as bad are those bloggers who may or may not have an important point to make, but they always find a way to make the point with as much vitriol and alarm as possible.

6. Polemicists can give their opponents too much power over them. There are lots of people in this world and plenty of positions that really bug me. Some of them deserve to be opposed. Many of them deserve to be ignored. None of them deserve to have mastery over your life. It saddens me to see Christians who can’t seem to go a day without thinking nasty thoughts about Tim Keller, or John Piper, or Rick Warren, or the Religious Right, or Barack Obama, or Mark Driscoll, or complementarians, or homeschoolers, or TGC, or two kingdom theology, or the missional mindset, or Sovereign Grace, or megachurches, or those prickly Calvinists, or inerrantists, or your denomination, or your fundamentalist upbringing, or the church that fired you, or that one pastor who hurt you, or that one time your ex-friends were mean to you, or that school that made you wear uniforms as a kid, or whatever. Fight the good fight in the day of battle and give the rest over to God. The only thing worse than That Thing you oppose is what you are like when you can’t stop raging against That Thing.

7. Polemicists can forget that there is more to life than controversy. We can get so wrapped up in the latest blog battle or political gaffe or theological misfire by someone we’ve never met that we forget about our own kids, our own church, our own flesh and blood friends and family members. We can forget to0, that the people we are opposing are complex characters, which doesn’t mean we always have to play “nice,” but it does mean we should remember that every human being we interact with is a mess of sins and struggles and hurts and fears and bright spots and dark places. A little dignified respect is in order, for the sake of God’s image if for nothing else. And most crucially, as we look at the fine print of some present controversy may our eyes not become so squint that we can no longer behold the wonders of being God’s children and the beauties of God’s world. Let us not become morose, peevish, and small when we serve such a good God with such a great gospel and such a glorious heaven. A heaven in which Christ will be all in all, and all our polemics will be put to their just and final end.

John Piper Visiting Lansing Area This Week

John Piper will be speaking at two separate events this week in the Lansing area.

Wednesday, October 17, 7:30pm at Riverview Church (Holt location). This event is for college students. Various campus groups from MSU and from around the state have been invited to attend. If every interested person within driving distance of Lansing shows up, there won’t be space for college students. So please respect the aim of this special event. And college students, please come!

Thursday, October 18, 10:00am at University Reformed Church (new location). This event is aimed at ministry leaders, but no one will be checking credentials at the door. I’ll be interviewing Pastor John about preaching and pastoral ministry. There will also be time for Q/A from the floor.