On the 19th of October, 2024, Mr Peter Lynch, 61, died in HMP Moorland, near Doncaster. He was a husband of 36 years, a father to 3 grown children, and a grandfather […]

? Joe Biden just said the quiet part out loud: "We gotta lock [President Trump] up." pic.twitter.com/nz9UkH7yf4 — Trump War Room (@TrumpWarRoom) October 22, 2024

from Revolver News: It’s that time of year again—election season. A perfect reminder of how far the U.S. has fallen and what a complete joke our elections have become. What’s really interesting is how states like Florida can count tens of millions of ballots in just a few hours, yet swing states like Michigan with […]

John the Baptist thought the idea of Jesus being baptized was ridiculous. After all, John had come to preach about God’s holy wrath against sin. He’d come declaring, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matt. 3:2). He baptized with water, which would’ve reminded the people of the judgment flood that overwhelmed God’s enemies in the days of Noah and at the Red Sea. Crowds flocked to the Jordan to drown their old lives of sin and to commit themselves to a new start. Then Jesus came with them, and he got in line. On its face, Jesus’s baptism makes no sense. Frederick Dale Bruner described it this way: “It’s as if one were to announce the coming of a great preacher at a series of evangelistic meetings, and one night the preacher arrives—not at the platform but at the altar, not at the podium but at the penitents’ bench, not to preach but to kneel.” Jesus isn’t unworthy or a sinner. He’s the One whose sandals John isn’t worthy to untie. Jesus doesn’t need to be baptized. He’s the One who will baptize his people with the Spirit and fire (Matt. 3:11). Knowing this, John reacts viscerally: “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” (v. 14). Jesus answered, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness” (v. 15). What could Jesus mean by this statement? How does his baptism fulfill all righteousness? Here the Savior says his baptism was essential not for his sake but for ours. Jesus’s baptism was part of the perfect obedience necessary to accomplish our salvation. ‘Fulfillment’ in Matthew’s Gospel Matthew is fond of the verb “fulfill” (plēroō). Already in the first two chapters of his Gospel, he’s used the term repeatedly to show how Jesus’s life is the deeper, prophetic goal to which the Old Testament Scriptures point. Jesus is the virgin-born Immanuel whom Isaiah predicted (Matt. 1:22). Jesus survived Herod’s Pharaoh-like slaughter of innocents, then, just like Israel, he was brought up out of Egypt (2:15). Already in Matthew 3, we see that John fulfills the first prophetic announcement of the nation’s restoration (v. 3; Isa. 40:3). Just as Israel went through the sea and then was tested in the wilderness, Jesus will now pass through the waters of judgment (Matt. 3:13–17) then be tempted in the desert by the Devil (4:1–11). Jesus embodies in his life everything Israel was called to be. Jesus’s baptism was part of the perfect obedience necessary to accomplish our salvation. Matthew also uses the word “fulfill” in another way—to describe obedience to all that God’s law required. Charles L. Quarles reads Matthew 3:15 as saying it was necessary for Jesus to fulfill “each and every act of justice.” When we look ahead two chapters to the Sermon on the Mount, we see that’s exactly what Jesus says about his ministry: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (5:17). Jesus didn’t come to discard God’s law and commands. He came to obey them. As G. K. Beale observes, “He came to set right what Israel and Adam had done wrong; he was coming successfully to obey, in contrast to Israel’s former disobedience.” Where Israel and all humanity had failed to live up to God’s standards, Jesus prevailed. Christ’s Active and Passive Obedience What makes Jesus’s fulfillment of “each and every act of justice” so important? Moses’s law contained both blessings for obedience and curses for disobedience (Deut. 28). It punished every criminal who transgressed its sanctions (21:23), and it promised life and flourishing to those who faithfully kept its commands (Lev. 18:5). In his passive sin-bearing and his active life of love, Christ both bore the law’s full penalty and merited all its rewards. As John Murray explains, “Christ as the vicar of his people came under the curse and condemnation due to sin and he also fulfilled the law of God in all its positive requirements. In other words, he took care of the guilt of sin and perfectly fulfilled the demands of righteousness.” These active and passive aspects of Christ’s obedience work together to accomplish our full redemption. Reformed theologians call this the doctrine of double imputation. Our sins were named to Christ’s account, and his righteous merits are now credited to us (2 Cor. 5:21). Jesus Christ, Baptized for You What does this have to do with Jesus’s baptism? Just think: Crowds hear John’s message of repentance. They come to the Jordan and are washed. It’s as if their sin, shame, and guilt are left there in the river. Then the Savior comes. He’s the perfect Lamb of God without blemish, but he steps into those judgment waters. Jesus identifies with the people’s sin so he might save them. He obediently carries their burdens all the way to the cross. In this way, Jesus’s baptism at the Jordan points forward to the baptism of his death (Mark 10:38; Luke 12:50). But it also points to the glorious blessings merited by his righteous life. In his passive sin-bearing and his active life of love, Christ both bore the law’s full penalty and merited all its rewards. After Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened. God’s Spirit came down like a dove, and a voice from heaven declared, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:16–17). These verses tell of Jesus’s identity as the anointed Servant (Isa. 11; 42; 61) and Davidic Son (2 Sam. 7; Ps. 2); they also reveal what’s true of all those united to him by faith (Rom. 8). Jesus’s baptism reveals the beauty of his person and the fullness of his saving work. His baptism was part and parcel with the work he did to merit our redemption. Don’t misunderstand. I’m not suggesting we trade in our hymns about the blood to sing only of Jordan’s waters. But when we remember Jesus’s baptism, it should remind us of all he did to save. His incarnation, life, death, and resurrection; his obedience, both active and passive; the fullness of his person and his work—they all add up to our redemption (Gal. 4:4–5).

We face a crisis of meaning in the West, a mass confusion over our true identity and purpose. Many feel adrift in the world with no sail, rudder, map, or compass. As a young man confessed to me recently, “I walk out of my house each morning and am overwhelmed with anxiety. I don’t know why I am here.” By jettisoning metanarratives, especially the Christian worldview, our culture has saddled people with the impossible burden of fabricating their own meaning and purpose. As I read Rod Dreher’s Living in Wonder: Finding Mystery and Meaning in a Secular Age, Billie Eilish’s hauntingly beautiful song “What Was I Made For?” reverberated in my mind. The song, written for the film Barbie, taps into the existential ache over the seeming emptiness and cruelty of existence so common in our culture. Humans have an innate desire for meaning and mystery. Dreher, a visiting fellow at the Danube Institute, argues there’s “a loss of a meaningful sense of God’s presence and of the existence of meaning and purpose in the world” (71). His basic explanation for this is the rise of materialistic modernism, which displaced Christianity from the cultural imagination in the West. Dreher’s proposal is to pursue “Christian re-enchantment” (153), mainly through “an infusion of authentic, time-tested mysticism . . . from the Eastern churches” (16). Dark Enchantment Unfortunately, the search for re-enchantment has led many into the arms of the occult and other forms of “dark enchantment” (128). Materialism is giving way to a return of neo-paganism as a dominant worldview, often taking the form of practices like crystals, manifesting, witchcraft, and astrology. Predictably, the result isn’t flourishing and freedom but ruin and spiritual slavery. Not all encounters with the spiritual realm are created equal. In journalistic fashion, Dreher relays several compelling stories illustrating the dangers of spiritual darkness and oppression. The demonic is real. Yet the real solution to disenchantment is Christ. This is good, as far as it goes. The demonic is real. Yet the real solution to disenchantment is Christ. However, Dreher’s analysis of the occult is, at times, conspiratorial and bizarre. He favorably quotes an exorcist who believes that “we are in the middle of a concerted and well-orchestrated war” in which the occult is “supported by the media, big corporations, politicians, and our government” (105). In expressing his concern about the spiritualization of technology, Dreher shares the Google whistleblower’s account that their AI program “had achieved consciousness” and that the engineers had participated in “a ritual committing it to the ancient Egyptian deity Thoth” (125). These accounts are intriguing but anecdotal. Though Dreher doesn’t think there’s a demon under every rock, he thinks there’s probably a demon behind every UFO. By his account, demons appear as aliens because they “are the kind of godlike beings that a secular society—one in which science and technology hold supreme authority—can believe in when they have discarded the God of the Bible” (114). Such ideas—mixed with accounts of generational curses, psychedelic trips, and demon possessions—are his primary supports for the need for Christian re-enchantment. Christian Re-Enchantment According to Dreher, Christian prayer is the primary way to recover a sense of God’s presence and experience enchantment in a secular age. He writes, “It turns out that attention—what we pay attention to, and how we attend—is the most important part of the mindset needed for re-enchantment. And prayer is the most important part of the most important part” (142). However, this solution isn’t as easy as it sounds. Anyone who prays regularly knows that the difficulty isn’t so much knowing what to do as putting down our phones and doing it. To Dreher’s credit, I must say that after reading his book, I’m praying more. Unfortunately, Dreher’s advice relies on caricatures of other Christians. For example, he repeatedly states that Protestant spiritual practices are deficient in providing worshipers with an enchanting encounter with the true and living God. And yet no one can read about Martin Luther’s prayer life and find it devoid of enchantment, for instance. Dreher ignores the incredibly rich resources Protestants have on prayer. The works of John Calvin, John Knox, John Owen, and, more recently, Tim Keller and Paul Miller come to mind. Prayer is certainly a means by which God communicates and through which we experience his grace (149). However, it’s incomplete without the grace that flows to us from God’s Word. Dreher nods toward doctrine “based on Scripture” (263), but he does a poor job of grounding his understanding of the means of grace in Scripture. In fact, Scripture is largely absent from Dreher’s lengthy discussion of spiritual practices—an unfortunate gap in his proposed solution, as one can’t experience the fullness of re-enchantment apart from God’s “living and active” Word (Heb. 4:12). Another Reformation Needed Dreher’s criticisms of other Christians don’t stop at the practice of prayer. He makes it clear that, in his mind, Protestantism simply isn’t enchanting enough. Dreher argues that the Reformation contributed to disenchantment by undermining a sacramental vision of the universe. Nature doesn’t have to be a sacrament to be enchanting. Notably, his account of the supposed disenchantment of Protestantism largely ignores the supernatural claims of charismatics and Pentecostals, not to mention the less extravagant experiences of spiritual reality of many Reformed Christians. Scripture is largely absent from Dreher’s lengthy discussion of spiritual practices—an unfortunate gap in his proposed solution. Instead, his preferred solution is to adopt a version of panentheism in which “all created things bear divine power and participate in the life of God” (24). Thus, despite Dreher’s periodic denials, it’s apparent his argument is for conversion to Byzantine Christianity rather than for a broader focus on Christian re-enchantment. However, as Patrick Collinson argues, the Reformation was “an episode of re-Christianization” that disrupted “a process of secularization with much deeper roots.” It was primarily a movement of Christian re-enchantment, the very thing this book prescribes. Contra Dreher, the West may actually need another Reformation to escape the disenchantment of our age. Reading Dreher is always interesting, though this book is somewhat disjointed compared to his earlier works. Still, it points readers to Christ to find meaning and mystery in an age of darkness, disenchantment, and technological tyranny. Yet as we watch Dreher’s spiritual evolution in real time with each book and new adventure, we should take his latest prescriptions for the faith with a healthy grain of salt.

Don Carson addresses the challenge of biblical inerrancy and interpretation, particularly in the context of textual variants and modern pluralism. He emphasizes that while textual variants exist, they don’t compromise major doctrines, and he calls for a deeper understanding of genre, grace, and cultural relevance in Scripture interpretation. He teaches the following: Textual variants don’t undermine inerrancy or key doctrines God’s sovereignty is shown through Scripture’s preservation How Genesis 1–3 combines history and symbolism Common grace shouldn’t be twisted to oppose God’s truth Parables like the Good Samaritan should be modernized carefully Pluralism rejects objective truth, complicating evangelism Biblical interpretation must account for cultural relevance

A history-making moment that made me outright smile

The hoard of 2,584 silver pennies from the time of the Norman conquest discovered at Chew Valley in Somerset has been acquired for the nation by the non-profit South West Heritage Trust. Valued at £4.3 million ($5.6 million), it is the highest-value treasure find ever made in England. The organization was able to raise the money thanks to a large grant of £4,420,527 from the National Lottery Heritage Fund and £150,000 from the Art Fund. The sum will be shared 50/50 between the landowner and the seven finders. The coins were discovered by a group of seven metal detectorists in January of 2019. Only two of them, Lisa Grace and Adam Staples, were experienced, and they were teaching the rest how to use their new machines when one of the newbies found a William the Conqueror silver penny. Then they found another, and another. They should have stopped after the first few coins and called archaeologists, of course, but they did not. Instead, five hours of detector alerts and amateur digging later, they had a bucket full of thousands of silver coins. Only then did they report the find to the Portable Antiquities Scheme and a week later they deposited the coins at the British Museum. The coins had been scattered by agricultural work over the centuries, so the hoard was not found as it was buried anyway, but having lost the chance to excavate the archaeological context of the hoard whatever that might be is all the more tragic in this case because the hoard is unique window into the immediate aftermath of the Norman invasion. The Chew Valley hoard consists of 1,343 silver pennies of William the Conqueror (r. 1066-1087), and 1,240 coins from the last Anglo-Saxon king of England Harold II (r. January 1066-October 14 1066), with a one penny of Edward the Confessor (r. 1042- January 1066) and three “mules,” counterfeit combinations of coins by William and Harold that were created by moneyers to dodge taxes. About 100 moneyers from 46 mints are named on the coins; some of the moneyers are the first named people from an English city. All of the coins date to between 1066 and 1068. It is the largest hoard of coins in the hoard from the immediate post-Norman Conquest period ever discovered and the largest Norman treasure of any kind to be found since 1833. The hoard was buried in 1068 on a property that would later be granted to Gisa, chaplain to King Edward the Confessor and the Bishop of Wells. At that time, the Chew Valley was embroiled in a rebellion against Normal rule led by Harold’s sons, so it’s like the coins were buried for safekeeping. The Chew Valley hoard will go on display at the British Museum starting November 26th. It will then go on a brief tour of UK museums, including in Bath near the find site, because settling permanently at the Museum of Somerset in Taunton.

One person died and dozens fell ill from E. coli infections linked to McDonald's Quarter Pounder hamburgers in 10 states, led by Colorado, where 26 people were sickened, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control…