The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...Blessed be the name of the Lord

Patrick Kurp quoted a portion of a Samuel Johnson essay on his blog this morning. He linked to it, and I followed the link. Johnson himself suffered from many infirmities, both physical and vexatious:

So large a part of human life passes in a state contrary to our natural desires, that one of the principal topicks of moral instruction is the art of bearing calamities. And such is the certainty of evil, that it is the duty of every man to furnish his mind with those principles that may enable him to act under it with decency and propriety. ....

That life has many miseries, and that those miseries are, sometimes at least, equal to all the powers of fortitude, is now universally confessed; and therefore it is useful to consider not only how we may escape them, but by what means those which either the accidents of affairs, or the infirmities of nature, must bring upon us, may be mitigated and lightened, and how we may make those hours less wretched, which the condition of our present existence will not allow to be very happy. ....

The great remedy which heaven has put in our hands is patience, by which, though we cannot lessen the torments of the body, we can in a great measure preserve the peace of the mind, and shall suffer only the natural and genuine force of an evil, without heightening its acrimony, or prolonging its effects. ....

In those evils which are allotted to us by Providence, such as deformity, privation of any of the senses, or old age, it is always to be remembered, that impatience can have no present effect, but to deprive us of the consolations which our condition admits....

The chief security against the fruitless anguish of impatience, must arise from frequent reflection on the wisdom and goodness of the God of nature, in whose hands are riches and poverty, honour and disgrace, pleasure and pain, and life and death. A settled conviction of the tendency of every thing to our good, and of the possibility of turning miseries into happiness, by receiving them rightly, will incline us to bless the name of the Lord, whether he gives or takes away. (more)

Samuel Johnson, "No. 32. The vanity of stoicism. The necessity of patience," The Rambler, July, 1750.

"But like a child at home"

Challies, quoting from Brett McCracken's The Wisdom of Sleep:

As we lie down to sleep, we give our mental anxieties and physical exhaustions to God, trusting him to tend to our burdens and restore us in the death of night, reviving us every morning. Every lying down to sleep is an enactment of the death and resurrection cycle of our salvation. We give up any notion of saving ourselves as we drift off to sleep. We can only trust that God will preserve us through the night, as he did the Israelites behind the bloodstained doors in Egypt through that terrifying night of wailing (Ex. 12:1–30). And we must trust not only that God will get us through night’s death but also that he will deliver us to new life in the morning, as he did for the Israelites in their exodus out of Egypt and eventually to the promised land. “The Lord kept vigil that night to bring them out of Egypt” (Ex. 12:42), and he keeps vigil every night, the sovereign author and perfecter of our faith.

Do we sleep well and rest easy as an outgrowth of our trust in God, calmed by the internalized, embodied knowledge that God reigns and keeps watch over our every breath?

Maybe we should strive to be more like a sleeping baby at peace in a parent’s arms. ....

Chesterton:

The greatest act of faith a man can perform is the act that we perform every night. We abandon our identity, we turn our soul and body into chaos and old night. We uncreate ourselves as if at the end of the world: for all practical purposes we become dead men, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection. (G.K. Chesterton, "The Meaning of Dreams" in Lunacy and Letters [pdf]).

A children's prayer:

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep;

And if I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

"Quiet time"?

From several years ago, excerpts from "Is It Time to Quit ‘Quiet Time’?" (likely behind a paywall). The problem isn't actually quiet, solitary Bible study and meditation on the Scriptures, but how it is approached.

Every semester, devout Christian students would report to me that they read their Bibles every day. They could even recite key verses from memory. They were fluent in Christian theological clichés. Yet despite their constant engagement with the Bible, they were shocked by what we found in Genesis....

I began to realize that their poor grasp of Scripture wasn’t necessarily due to a lack of reading, although that’s also a large problem in the US. ....

But for my students, many of whom read the Bible daily and have chosen to attend a Christian college, their poor grasp on and application of Scripture seems to be due to the way they engage with it. It is a way many American Christians have been reading the Bible for decades: through “daily devotions” or “quiet time.” ....

“As a whole,” Ed Stetzer wrote in 2017, “Americans, including many Christians, hold unbiblical views on hell, sin, salvation, Jesus, humanity, and the Bible itself.” Like many American Christians, my students didn’t seem to understand details required to grasp the whole sweep of Scripture. ....

...[M]y students who do not practice more robust forms of traditional Bible engagement—such as inductive Bible study, yearly Bible reading plans, the lectionary, or lectio divina—have few tools to help situate a daily meditation on a verse such as “What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Rom. 8:31). Such microdosing of Scripture without a grasp of the whole can easily distort our interpretations. Time-tested traditions of long-form Scripture engagement expose us to and familiarize us with the contents of Scripture. .... When my freshmen described their daily quiet times, I began to understand some of the disconnect. They lacked extended communal readings of Scripture where it was safe to interrogate the text and puzzle over its meaning.

For them, Scripture reading was an individual’s responsibility with a necessary outcome: God showing the reader something from the passage that is immediately relevant to his or her life. Many were playing Bible roulette every morning, letting the Scriptures open to any page and asking God to show them what they should learn from the verses. Some of them would read just one verse a day. Others read a passage, or maybe a chapter. ....

Daily devotions have been characteristically solitary and have not usually involved rigorous study of Scripture. Instead, readers often focus on one chapter or even a few verses per session, from which they may expect to receive God’s guidance for their personal life in that moment. Daily devotions typically include a period of prayerful “listening” for God’s voice, which is believed to manifest either in the verses read that session or via direct communication to the mind of the listener.

Though this listening may be expectant, it is essentially passive. It’s often guided by a tacit belief that God’s Word speaks and transforms through sudden insights directed at individual readers, rather than through sustained study and active questioning in community. ....

If Bible literacy is declining, even for those who read devotionally every day, then what is the way forward? Most of the parachurch ministries we talked to reported that they have been considering methods that provide a wider perspective of Scripture. These include ancient Scripture reading rituals that many evangelical churches have rarely practiced (such as lectio divina, the Daily Office from The Book of Common Prayer, and so on). But the practice most mentioned by ministry leaders was the public, or communal, reading of Scripture. .... (more, but likely behind a paywall)

My most recent practice most mornings is reading The Daily Liturgy newsletter provided by Mere Orthodoxy. It includes readings from the Psalms, Old Testament, and New Testament, as well as prayers and meditations on the Scriptures, and it is orthodox in doctrine (i.e., "adhering to the traditional and established Christian faith").

Dru Johnson & Celina Durgin, "Is It Time to Quit ‘Quiet Time’?," Christianity Today, April 2023.

God is God, and I am not

I was recently reminded of Ben Patterson's Waiting: Finding Hope When God Seems Silent, a book that has been important to my understanding, so I repost this from "The Epilog" of that book:

Does it strike you as odd that a book on waiting has scarcely mentioned the word patience? Or perseverance? Aren't those the virtues that we are to exercise when we are forced to wait? They are, but they are secondary to what really is needed to wait with grace. More basic than patience or perseverance are humility and hope. These two are the attitudes, the visions of life, that make patience possible. Patience is a rare and lovely flower that grows only in the soil of humility and hope.

Humility makes patience possible because it shows us our proper place in the universe. God is God, we are his creatures; he is the King, we are his subjects; he is master, we are his servants. We have no demands to make, no rights to assert. I can be impatient only if I think that whatever it is I want is being withheld or delayed unfairly. As Chuck Swindoll put it, "God is not in your appointment book; you're in his." His superiority is not only in power and authority, it is in love and wisdom as well. He has the right to do whatever he wants to do, whenever he wants to do it, but he also has the love to desire what is best for all his creatures and the wisdom to know what is best. He is superior to us in every conceivable way—in power and love and wisdom. To know that is to be patient.

Hope makes patience possible because it gives us the confidence that our wait is not in vain. Hope believes that this God of love, power and wisdom is on our side. It exults in the knowledge that, in the delays of life, he knows exactly what he is doing. If he moves quickly, it is for our good; if he moves slowly, it is for our good. No matter how things look to us, God is the complete master of the situation. There is an old theological word for this—providence. The venerable Heidelberg Catechism defines God's providence as:

The Almighty and everywhere present power of God; whereby, as it were, by his hand, he upholds and governs heaven, earth, and all creatures; so that herbs and grass, rain and drought, fruitful and barren years, meat and drink, health and sickness, riches and poverty, yea all things come not by chance, but by his fatherly hand.

There are no accidents, no glitches with God. He does all things well. Everything that comes to us comes by his hand and through his heart. He provides for our needs and fulfills our deepest desires in the fullness of time, not a moment too late, nor a second too soon. Hope assures us that in all things, even in the delays of life, God is working for our good. To know that is to be patient.

One of the surprise "goods" that God is working for us as we wait is the forging of our character. What we become as we wait is at least as important as the thing we wait for. To wait in hope is not just to pass the time until the wait is over. It is to see the time passing as part of the process God is using to make us into the people he created us to be. Job emerges from his wait dazzled and transformed. Abram becomes Abraham and Sarai becomes Sarah.

Hope invites us to look at our waitings from the grand perspective of God's eternal purposes. In fact to be a believer is, by definition, to be one who waits. When Jesus won his victory over sin and death, he ascended into heaven, promising one day to return. We Christians wait for that return, poised between the times, in the "already, but not yet." We look back to his victory and strain forward to see its consummation.

The apostle Paul says the pain of our waiting is like the waiting of childbirth. It is the tension and groaning of labor (Rom 8:22-25). I attended my wife in the births of each of our four children. One thing struck me as odd about each event: that the time when she was required to exert her greatest effort and push the baby out was the time when she was least able. She was exhausted from hours of labor and now she was to summon all her strength and push. How could she? Hope made it possible: the hope of giving birth to the child. When human strength was gone, something beyond the purely human took over and gave her the strength she needed.

The Bible said it would be this way for those who hope in God. "Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Is 40:31). Likewise for our Lord Jesus and his cross, "who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him...so that you will not grow weary and lose heart" (Heb 12:2-3).

My wish is that we might gain the humility and hope to not grow weary and lose heart. I hope that you and I might be able to say, with full hearts, what Henrietta Mears said near the end of her life. This wonderfully eccentric and indefatigable saint accomplished great things for God in her life. When asked if there was anything she would have done differently, had she her life to live over, she said without hesitation, "I would trust God more."

Ben Patterson, Waiting: Finding Hope When God Seems Silent, 1989, pp. 167-170.

Though the fig tree do not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.  (Hab 3:17–18)

"Envy has displaced gratitude"

From Patrick Kurp's post yesterday:

I encountered this in [Sir Thomas] Browne’s “A Letter to a Friend” (written in 1665, published posthumously in 1690):

Let Age, not Envy, draw Wrinkles on thy Cheeks: be content to be envied, but envy not, Emulation may be plausible, and Indignation allowable; but admit no Treaty with that Passion which no Circumstance can make good. A Displacency at the good of others, because they enjoy it, altho we do not want it, is an absurd Depravity, sticking fast unto humane Nature from its primitive Corruption ...

Again: “which no Circumstance can make good.” Politics today seems driven overwhelmingly by envy. People want what others have, whether or not they worked for them or otherwise deserve to possess them. Envy has displaced gratitude for what is already ours.

Patrick Kurp, "An Absurd Depravity," Anecdotal Evidence, June 23, 2026.

"I know that my Redeemer lives..."

In 1988, I gave my pastor, Rev. Kevin Butler, a sealed envelope containing my "Funeral and Burial Instructions." Recently, his wife, Janet, came across that envelope in his desk. I was curious about my thoughts on such matters almost forty years ago, so I asked if it could be mailed to me. It came today (thanks, Janet). Not much has changed, although my hymn selections might vary a bit. Following the burial instructions, I wrote:

3. I am a Christian. I believe that I will live eternally in the presence of God. I wish a service that reflects that fact. If possible, I would like the following elements to be a part of that service:

• "The Order for the Burial of the Dead" from The Book of Common Prayer, 1559. I do not want a modern language version.
• Hymns: "Amazing Grace," especially the verse: "When we've been there ten thousand years..." Isaac Watts' "O God, Our Help in Ages Past" to St Anne's tune.
• If possible, a soloist and choir to sing "O Taste and See" by Ralph Vaughan Williams from the Sacred and Secular Songs.
• Only the barest and briefest eulogy, or none at all.
• No choruses and as little sentimentality as possible.

4. The service must be conducted by someone who is orthodox in Christian doctrine and who believes the words he will say or read.

Today, I might add or substitute the hymn "How Firm a Foundation." The Vaughan Williams is probably a bit much to ask (see below). I would change the Prayer Book selection for the scriptures, prayers, and readings to the 1662 version of "The Order for the Burial of the Dead." By and large, though, it was fine — just a description of the ordinary elements of a Christian funeral with some personalization. I won't mind if the need for such instruction is postponed for a while.

"Other forces at work..."

Wise counsel from a work of fiction:

...Tolkien’s assessment of history isn’t just the musings of some dour and curmudgeonly professor. His views never amounted to despair or cynicism; as is his read on history, they are tethered and illumined by hope.

This is alluded to throughout The Lord of the Rings. In the film adaptation, while Frodo and Gandalf are in the Mines of Moria, Frodo laments,

“It's a pity Bilbo didn't kill Gollum when he had the chance.” Notice how Gandalf’s answer isn’t merely a reprimand or a lecture on providence.

Gandalf: “Pity? It's pity that stayed Bilbo's hand. Many that live deserve death. Some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play in it, for good or evil, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many.”

Frodo: “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.”

Gandalf: “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides that of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, in which case you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.”

There are other forces at work, indeed. ....

In the epic of Tolkien’s literary masterpiece, he does in fantasy and fairy tale what few theologians and professors can do in lectures. In his characters, we see despair assuaged, courage enlivened, contempt tempered. Ultimately, Tolkien reminds us that God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise (1 Cor. 1:27). Precisely because this is what God does, we can trust that the best strategy for the church and for us individually in the Christian life is not to relent to our reactionary impulses but to “Let folly be our cloak!”

We might think hanging on to the ordinary means of grace is an act of despair, but it's not. We can’t fathom that in these plain practices, by faith, we are participating in the most powerful things in the world. Not in a methodological, technical, or pragmatic sense; the rituals of the church do not coax God as if he’s a feral animal. God’s mystical and mysterious work is beyond all of that. Rather, they are the very inbreaking of the New Creation in our lives.

You see, in a world where God has revealed himself, become incarnate, died for our sins, and risen for our justification, who promises to come again to judge the living and the dead, there is no room for cultural moods to dictate our life and ministry. .... (more)

Caleb Wait, "A Veil Before the Eyes of the Enemy: On Tolkien, Foolishness, and the Ordinary Means of Grace," Modern Reformation, May 19, 2026.

Are you religious?

In an interesting essay reviewing a book about the role of "religion" in government, a few paragraphs explaining the original understanding of the word:

The English term “religion,” or the Latin religio, originally derives from the Latin verb religare, or “to bind again” (as in “ligation”). The noun religio, in the classical sense, was not conceived as a specific set of beliefs or propositional truth-claims among others. Rather, it was a sort of virtue or characteristic: one who is “religious” has the property of holding fast, or fidelity. That is why the term “religious life,” in the Middle Ages, was not a descriptor of one’s personal theological conviction. Rather, it referred to those who had bound themselves to a particular monastic or lay rule of life. In other words, almost everyone was Christian, but the phrase “the religious” referred to those who’d adopted a particular set of intense devotional practices.

On this older paradigm, individuals exemplifying the virtue of religio were those capable of seeing God as “what He is, namely the summit of all goodness, the truth of things, the light by which the mind operates” and so choosing to “sedulously revere Him in act, in goodness, in truthfulness of speech, in clarity of mind, in love,” as Wilfred Cantwell Smith notes. On this view, crucially, religion was not something other than natural; rather, it was a particular disposition toward the apex or limit condition of reality itself. “Since philosophia is the love and pursuit of truth and wisdom, and since truth and wisdom are, precisely, God, it follows that true philosophia and true religio are identical.” ....

“Religion” is not some zone of private belief or set of axiomatic commitments; rather, theology is the love and knowledge of God that orients the Christian way of life. It cannot be privatized, interiorized, or ever depoliticized. ....

John Ehrett, "The Problem with 'Religion'," Mere Orthodoxy, May 19, 2026.

"Losing ourselves altogether"

From "The Philosophers and Churchmen Who Fell for Fascism." This is a lesson for any believer who comes to prioritize political commitment above first things:

“Everything begins as a mystique and ends as a politique,” [Charles] Péguy wrote. By “mystique” he meant the transcendent commitment to a certain ideal. One enters into public life inspired by notions of justice, liberty, fairness, and right, but in the actual action of politics, one faces repeated temptations to compromise, to put victory above truth and virtue. The great danger is that this process can be imperceptible to the person undergoing it. “An action begun as a mystique continues in politics, and we do not notice that we are crossing the dividing line. Politics devour the mystique and we fail to jump out.” Without knowing it, we make little choices to compromise on telling the truth, or to use underhanded means to achieve our ends, or to slander our opponents. As time goes on, the compromises get deeper and deeper, and we risk losing ourselves altogether.

It is possible, however, to jump off this terrible train at any point. Maritain did it. Péguy wrote that a person with his or her heart in the right place can discern, finally, where the dividing point is that separates support for one’s ideals and the embrace of the brute political power struggle. If a person chooses to jump out, he will be called a traitor by his political compatriots. But for those who stay on board the train of moral compromise, Péguy had harsh words: “The real traitor, in the full sense of the word, in the strong sense of the word, is the man who sells his faith, who sells his soul and gives himself up, loses his soul, betrays his principles, his ideal, his very being, who betrays his mystique and enters into its corresponding politique.”

Nathan Beacom, "The Philosophers and Churchmen Who Fell for Fascism," The Dispatch, March 23, 2026.

The Facebook deputy and the Twitter sheriff

I often foolishly read comments that I know will annoy me. I almost always refrain from commenting myself. About online behavior:

Like you, I’ve been watching friends and acquaintances go after one another online with the same recycled takes on the latest predictable—or conveniently manufactured—controversy. Each current event becomes a referendum on national decline. Any headline can morph into amateur constitutional law. Takes on DEI, foreign policy, vaccines—nothing is too complex to be resolved in 280 characters, preferably accompanied by moral urgency and a link to a partisan source no one will read.

The cynic in me asks: Who appointed you? Who authorized you—doomscroller, catechized by cable news—to determine when immigration becomes immoral, how election security is assessed, which historical narratives deserve canonization, or which media outlets are to be labeled heretical? What, exactly, qualifies someone for this level of cultural adjudication?

One possible answer: Dwight K. Schrute.

Rainn Wilson’s portrayal of Dwight on The Office is brilliant precisely because Dwight is so convinced of his own authority—and so oblivious to its absence. ....

But here’s the uncomfortable possibility: what if we’re more like Dwight than we think? What if we’re not in on the joke—but are instead unwittingly the punchline?

To be clear, many issues matter deeply. Addressing them is not the problem. It may be morally necessary. The problem is something closer to the Dunning–Kruger effect: low ability overestimating itself; armored with confidence, baptized in moral language, and amplified by platforms that reward certainty and drama rather than wisdom. What we are witnessing in public is not merely division but deformation—of judgment, discourse, and the virtues required for social cohesion.

This is the rise of the Facebook deputy and the Twitter sheriff: self-nominated authorities armed with fragments of information and an audience just large enough to feel consequential. ....

It may offend modern sensibilities to say this, but it remains true: not all opinions are created equal. People share equal dignity, but public judgments are not equally credible. If everyone is an expert, no one is. We can be sincere and yet wrong. Passionate and ignorant. Some speak because they have something to say; others speak because they simply have to say something. .... (more)

The whole essay is an enjoyable (to me anyway) and instructive read.

Justin D. Detmers, "We Are All Dwight Schrute Now: The Rise of the Facebook Deputy," Mere Orthodoxy, March 9, 2026.

"Yet I will rejoice"

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines,
The produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stalls,
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet like the deer’s.
He makes me tread on high places. 

Habakkuk 3:17-19 [ESV]

The final verse of Cowper's hymn is based on that passage from Habakkuk. It is a favorite hymn of mine, although several others of Cowper's are, too.

Sometimes a light surprises the Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord who rises with healing in His wings:
When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining, to cheer it after rain.

In holy contemplation, we sweetly then pursue
The theme of God’s salvation, and find it ever new.
Set free from present sorrow, we cheerfully can say,
'E'en let th' unknown tomorrow bring with it what it may.

It can bring with it nothing, but He will bear us through.
Who gives the lilies clothing will clothe His people, too;
Beneath the spreading heavens, no creature but is fed;
And He Who feeds the ravens will give His children bread.

Though vine, nor fig tree, neither, their wonted fruit should bear,
Tho' all the field should wither, nor flocks, nor herds, be there,
Yet God, the same abiding, His praise shall tune my voice
For while in Him confiding, I cannot but rejoice.
(William Cowper, c. 1779)

Poets' Corner - William Cowper: Olney Hymns

Self-esteem

A passing reference in a blog I read almost every day sent me looking for "Psychobabble that shields the seriously selfish," a 1999 essay by Theodore Dalrymple:

When someone says that he lacks self-esteem he says it as if he were denied something that is his of right. Merely by virtue of drawing breath, each person has the right to think well of himself. Are not all men created equal, in some not-quite-specifiable metaphysical sense? And is not man the paragon of animals, the beauty of the world, like unto a god? Should we not all, then, think well of ourselves? ....

Does anyone not know someone who is too full of self-esteem, who is pompous, puffed up, self-important, vainglorious, self-regarding and altogether too pleased with himself? Whose achievements or qualities are minimal, yet who seems walled around by an awareness of his own assumed superiority? And is it not the case that such inflated self-esteem is one of the most unpleasant qualities anyone can have, drawing immediate censure from almost everyone? ....

Many people come to me saying that they need to find themselves, on the assumption that somewhere buried deep within them, like a vein of precious ore in the Witwatersrand, there is a wonderful, exceptional, talented person trying to get out, about whom they will be able to feel good. The doctor is thus a miner in the hard rock of the personality. I sometimes astonish my patients by telling them that it is far more important that they should be able to lose themselves than that they should be able to find themselves. For it is only in losing oneself that one does find oneself. (emphasis added) ....

Anyone who even asks the question of whether he has sufficient self-esteem is, ipso facto, a lost soul. Whatever answer is given, the person is in trouble, in a state of profound error and confusion. It is a sign of our increasing self-obsession, of the narrowing of our emotional, spiritual and intellectual horizons, that a concept such as self-esteem should have assumed such importance and become central to so many kinds of therapy. I recall the words of Lord Bacon (admittedly not a man entirely without ego himself), which are as true now as they were when he wrote them: “It is a poore centre of a Man’s life, Himselfe.”

Theodore Dalrymple, "Psychobabble that shields the seriously selfish," The New Statesman, August 16, 1999.

The indispensable virtue

Re-posted from a few years ago. From "Quiet Hope: A New Year’s Resolution.":

.... What Leon Kass calls the “higher cynicism” has left many adrift, without recourse to the traditions of wisdom that might provide direction and guidance for life. ....

Despair is the unforgivable sin, for the despairing conclude that God will not or cannot act, that the universe is fundamentally unfriendly and inhospitable to the true, good, and beautiful, and that humanity has lost the imago Dei. To judge in this way is to deny the goodness of the world and its Creator and sustainer, and that is the sin of all sins. ....

...[T]he most indispensable virtue is hope, which is not optimism or a vague sentiment, but a disposition that all will turn out well in the end. ...I would add that this disposition is convinced that God does not fail to keep his promises. Kass insists, wisely, that hope is not hope for change, but rather an affirmation of permanence, of the permanent possibility of a meaningful life in a hospitable and meaningful universe. ....

My resolution for 2020 is to learn a quiet hope. It would do me well. ....

A good resolution for 2026, too, and every other year.

Quiet Hope: A New Year’s Resolution - Public Discourse

Grace

Frederick Buechner:

AFTER CENTURIES OF handling and mishandling, most religious words have become so shopworn nobody's much interested any more. Not so with grace, for some reason. Mysteriously, even derivatives like gracious and graceful still have some of the bloom left.

Grace is something you can never get but only be given. There's no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth.

A good sleep is grace and so are good dreams. Most tears are grace. The smell of rain is grace. Somebody loving you is grace. Loving somebody is grace. Have you ever tried to love somebody?

A crucial eccentricity of the Christian faith is the assertion that people are saved by grace. There's nothing you have to do. There's nothing you have to do. There's nothing you have to do.

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you.

There's only one catch, Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you'll reach out and take it.

Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too.

From the entry for October 30 in Frederick Buechner, Listening to Your Life, HarperCollins, 1992.

Antisemitism

I always enjoy reading Kevin Williamson and usually agree with him. From today's "The Antisemitism Grift," and once again, I like what he writes:

One of the bits of Christian civilization that limps on in our time is the seedbed of antisemitism. It is a supreme irony: The central figure in Christianity is—I do not write was—a Jew, a Jewish man from a Jewish family who lived, until the advent of an extraordinary career, an ordinary Jewish life in a Jewish land. Christianity is not Judaism, and its fundamental claims are incompatible with Jewish orthodoxy. Pope John Paul II taught Christians to think of the Jewish people as “our elder brothers in faith,” and that seems to me the right way to go about it—a serious difference, but a loving disagreement within the family. It is, I think, the endurance of Jews that drives Christians a little bit mad—or a lot mad, at times—as though the Christian failure to entirely assimilate the Jewish people into our religion (its fragments) and into our Weltanschauung were the mark of some sort of a divine rebuke. Like much of what ails Christianity, this trouble stems from a Christian refusal to believe our own dogma and a Christian failure to understand that dogma in the first place. We behave as though God were unable to attend to His Own affairs, including His ongoing business with His chosen people. That is the democratic spirit in religion: the urge to give the Architect of the Universe a little nudge, here and there, and a little advice. (more, possibly behind a paywall)

Kevin D. Williamson, "The Antisemitism Grift," The Dispatch, Nov. 3, 2025.

Chivalry

Kevin DeYoung on a worthy aspiration:

We need heroes from the past, as well as inspiration for the present. And the knight has proved to be an enduring symbol of valor for almost a thousand years. But if Christian men are going to aspire to be these heroic defenders of Christendom, we ought to know what these knights were supposed to be like. ....

As medieval historian Maurice Keen explains in his book, Chivalry, the knight had three basic duties. The first duty was to defend the faith of Christ against unbelievers (note: not to wield the sword against other Christians). His next duty was to defend his earthly lord. His third responsibility was to protect the weak. In pursuit of these duties, the knight might be sent on a crusade far away, or he might be asked to exercise his responsibilities closer to home.

As important as these obligations were, the manner in which the knight carried them out was as important as the duties themselves. .... The chivalric ideal identified and codified which acts and which attitudes were considered honorable. Chivalry prized bravery, fortitude, and physical prowess—but also humility, gentlemanly behavior, and courtliness toward women. The two sets of virtues were never to be separated. At all times, the knight was to be noble and courteous. ....

What is missing from the present version of manly bravery is the insistence that charging into battle requires the “heavy burden” of virtue—and not just one virtue (fortitude), but all of them (prudence, justice, and temperance). If today’s would-be knights are serious about exercising Christ’s dominion on the earth, they must first be serious about exercising dominion over themselves—over their speech, over their anger, over their petty vindictiveness. It is not enough that we are ready to fight. We must also be courteous and not base, fair and not ruled by our passions, gracious and not a scoundrel. ....

There is nothing noble in fighting for its own sake. The devil knows how to prowl and devour and fight as well as anyone. Every culture celebrates warriors of one kind or another. Often, they are bloodthirsty and cruel. What the best of Christendom called knights to be was a different kind of warrior—humble, honest, fair, dignified in speech and gracious in character. That’s the chivalrous hero we ought to emulate, not the brawler who thinks self-restraint is for sissies and courtesy is for cowards. .... (more)

Kevin DeYoung, "In Search of Chivalry," Clearly Reformed, Oct. 30, 2025.

Sons of the Father

From the final chapter of John R.W. Stott's Basic Christianity, "Being a Christian":

We saw earlier that our sins had alienated us from God. They had come as a barrier between us. Put differently, we were under the just condemnation of the Judge of all the earth. But now through Jesus Christ, who bore our condemnation and to whom by faith we have become united, we have been "justified," that is, brought into acceptance with God and pronounced righteous. Our Judge has become our Father. "See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are," wrote John. "Father" and "Son" are the distinctive titles which Jesus gave to God and to himself, and they are the very names which he permits us to use! By union with him we are permitted to share something of his own intimate relation to the Father. Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage in the middle of the third century AD, well expresses our privilege when writing about the Lord's Prayer:

How great is the Lord's indulgence! How great are his condescension and plenteousness of goodness towards us, seeing that he has wished us to pray in the sight of God in such a way as to call God Father, and to call ourselves sons of God, even as Christ is the Son of God—a name which none of us would dare to venture on in prayer, unless he himself had allowed us thus to pray.

Now at last we can repeat the Lord's Prayer without hypocrisy. Previously the words had a hollow sound; now they ring with new and noble meaning. God is indeed our Father in heaven, who knows our needs before we ask and will not fail to give good things to his children.

It may be necessary for us sometimes to receive correction at his hand, "for the Lord disciplines him whom he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives." But in this he is treating us as sons and disciplining us for our good. With such a Father, loving, wise and strong, we can be delivered from all our fears.

John R.W. Stott, Basic Christianity, Eerdman's Publishing, 1974.

Identifying the enemy

"How do we fight nothing?"

Nihilism’s root is nihil, Latin for “nothing.” No meaning. Empty; soulless. What we see is all there is. Nothing else. Nothing beyond. Nothing more. Nothing. What is the meaning? What is gained? What is lost? What is the point? Nothing.

Decades ago, Pope John Paul II popularized the phrase “culture of death.” A culture of death is a culture of nihilism. No meaning to life, nothing to aim toward or organize around, no intrinsic worth or dignity to each person, and no standard of what is good, right, and true to guide and govern us. ....

In C.S. Lewis’s 1942 book The Screwtape Letters, a senior demon coaches his nephew on how to demonize human subjects. To corrupt the soul of a person, he says, the apprentice demon must get his subjects to misidentify the enemy. Using satirical fiction, Lewis was warning readers not to confuse our real foe. ....

The modern playbook for mobilizing others is to sow seeds of fear and harvest actions in service of someone else’s agenda. Such ground is fertilized, writes 20^th-century philosopher Hannah Arendt, under conditions of isolation. Loneliness, she says, heightened in an antisocial century, “prepares men for totalitarian domination.” Related, Kyla Scanlon writes, “Anxiety creates the psychological conditions that algorithms exploit.” ....

When unity is lost, when our bonds crumble, when we literally dis-integrate—who gains? Yes, promoters, programmers, platformers, propagandists, and politicians gain. But who else benefits, spiritually speaking?

I think we are in a war. And there are forces corrupting our souls and stirring our angst.... But let us not misidentify the enemy, which must be named: evil, sin, meaninglessness, and nihilism. Nothing.

So, what do we do? How do we fight? Specifically, how do we fight nothing?

We fight nothing with something. Christians point to something—they point to Someone.

In the Gospel of John Chapter 6, the crowd following Jesus began to leave him. His teaching was hard. They did not like his absolutist claims. He failed to meet their expectations of the coming Messiah. Jesus asked the 12 disciples if they, too, wanted to leave. “Lord, to whom can we go?” responded the Apostle Peter. “You have the words of eternal life.” The most powerful response to nothingness is that which is eternal. Nihilism must not, will not, have the last word. Echoing Peter, Christians ultimately believe meaning, hope, and life are found in a person. .... (more)

Kevin Brown, "Our Real Enemy in the Culture Wars Is Nihilism," The Dispatch, Sept 21, 2025.

Ugly thoughts

This seems correct. When I first engaged in social media, I was often guilty of making instant comment that I regretted almost immediately (although not "horrific, cruel, and vindictive").  Jim Geraghty:

On Friday, John Podhoretz of Commentary offered a series of posts on X that succinctly encapsulated what we’ve seen since the rise of social media and why so many previously normal-ish seeming people are suddenly blurting out the most horrific, cruel, and vindictive ideas imaginable. You should read the whole thing — I hope John turns it into a column or essay — but this is the gist:

Here’s the danger of social media. It allows people to publish their internal monologues. Our internal monologues and fantasies are often incredibly ugly. People go to therapists because they feel so guilty about them, and one of the tasks of a therapist is to explain that thoughts are not actions. You can rage in your thoughts about your brother, or someone at work, even fantasize about them dying — but you have done nothing and are guilty of nothing, and you need to forgive yourself and learn how to calm yourself down.

Since 2007, people have [had] a means of externalizing that interior monologue....

If the world knew what was going on inside us, we would all be punished viscerally for it. Until 2007, for the most part, the world would not, could not, know. The question is, and I mean this literally: Can civilization survive now that we have been made witness to the interior lives of others?

Just about everybody’s got ugly thoughts sometimes. Thankfully, the percentage of people who act on those thoughts is pretty small; otherwise, society would be anarchy. And thankfully, most people keep those thoughts to themselves.

I would note that if you say something that violates other people’s sense of right and wrong — “I’m glad that guy is dead, I wish I had killed him myself” — in front of other people, you’re likely to see visible reactions of disapproval. You might even lose friends over it or get the sense that other people see you as a broken, hateful lunatic. That dormant sense of shame might awaken. But online, it’s much easier to dismiss those who criticize your comment, and also much easier to bask in the approval of other people, as well. ....

Jim Geraghty, "‘Consequence Culture’ Comes for the Angry Left," National Review, Sept. 15, 2025.

Vocation

Tomorrow is Labor Day in the US. As I have done in the past for Labor Day, I re-post part of a 1942 address by Dorothy L. Sayers: "Why Work?" (pdf):

I HAVE already, on a previous occasion, spoken at some length on the subject of Work and Vocation. What I urged then was a thorough-going revolution in our whole attitude to work. I asked that it should be looked upon—not as a necessary drudgery to be undergone for the purpose of making money, but as a way of life in which the nature of man should find its proper exercise and delight and so fulfill itself to the glory of God. That it should, in fact, be thought of as a creative activity undertaken for the love of the work itself; and that man, made in God's image, should make things, as God makes them, for the sake of doing well a thing that is well worth doing. ....

It is the business of the Church to recognize that the secular vocation, as such, is sacred. Christian people, and particularly perhaps the Christian clergy, must get it firmly into their heads that when a man or woman is called to a particular job of secular work, that is as true a vocation as though he or she were called to specifically religious work. .... It is not right for her to acquiesce in the notion that a man's life is divided into the time he spends on his work and the time he spends in serving God. He must be able to serve God in his work, and the work itself must be accepted and respected as the medium of divine creation. ....

Where we have become confused is in mixing up the ends to which our work is put with the way in which the work is done. The end of the work will be decided by our religious outlook: as we are so we make. It is the business of religion to make us Christian people, and then our work will naturally be turned to Christian ends, because our work is the expression of ourselves. But the way in which the work is done is governed by no sanction except the good of the work itself; and religion has no direct connexion with that, except to insist that the workman should be free to do his work well according to its own integrity. ....

Dorothy L. Sayers, Creed or Chaos?" Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1949, pp. 46-62.