I had a 0600 flight out of Atlanta en route to Dallas, TX and then en route to my final destination for this trip, all as part of my ministry to fellow troops, and I was even blessed to have my wife ride with me to the airport and drive my car back home after she dropped me off, and the traffic was light as I drove us to the airport, due to leaving the house just after 0400, and I was inside the airport by 0500. Plenty of time. I was in uniform, and one of the young boys at the airline kiosk said, “You can go this way, sir, since you’re TSA PreCheck.” I pulled out my iPhone to scan my boarding pass under the red laser but the American Airlines site was down and the boarding pass would not show up. Instead, AA sent me an email with a link. When I clicked on the link, it read, “Our site is experiencing problems. Please retry.” I went through that loop several times as I neared where I’d have to get my bags scanned. The TSA worker at security said, “Sir, I cannot let you pass until I see your boarding pass.” I explained that American’s site was down and all they were sending me was an automated email with a link to a message, and then back to the same link. He said he understood but that I’d have to go get a paper boarding pass.

I walked up to the desk and finally an American Airlines man wearing a white mask waved me forward. He did not say good morning or anything else. He just looked at me. “Good morning, sir. I need to get my boarding pass printed, please. The American Airlines site is down, and I’m unable to board, and my flight is at the gate,” I said.

“Boarding pass,” Frederick said perfunctorily. I read his nametag, since he did not appear to want to help or even to look at me.

“That’s why I’m here, sir. To have you print my boarding pass. The American Airlines site is down and they keep sending me an email saying as much. But here’s my confirmation number and military ID.”

“Boarding pass,” Frederick said.

“Sir, did you not understand? That’s why I’ve been sent to you– for a boarding pass. American’s online app is down and the man downstairs where we passengers have our bags scanned sent me up here to have you guys print my boarding pass. Here’s my ID and my confirmation number.”

“You need your boarding pass.”

For a moment, I contemplated the unthinkable. Let me just say that I found it less than easy to love and respect my fellow man–at least Frederick. As a matter of fact, I rather felt like helping hurry Frederick’s appointment with a coroner. Yes, I know, that is a sad admission but there is no point in lying about it.

Then Frederick spoke again with the same dearth of compassion, concern, and understanding. “You’re not going to make this flight. I’ll place you on standyby for the 1050 flight to Dallas.”

I wish I could tell you that Frederick then smiled and said, “Nah, just kidding!” but he didn’t. I waited for five hours in Atlanta’s airport. Inside, I was fuming. I mean, I had another flight at DFW, TX I was going to miss, and then I would miss my rental car reservation, for the next portion of the trip, etc. It just went from bad to worse.

But I sat and tried to convince myself that there was a reason that American’s site was down, and that good’ole Frederick had been the employee of the year at American Airlines in ATL this morning, and that maybe I had struggled to express myself clearly.

Now several hours have gone by. And I am finally in Dallas. And I am waiting another five hours for a flight to Arkansas, and then to see if I can get my rental car and drive to my destination.

Here’s where’s the grace comes in: After we landed in Dallas, I had my backpack on my shoulder and was wheeling my rolling bag out to go have a look at the departure board to see when my new connecting flight was slated to depart. It was not even showing on the board, so I thought, “Well, at least my winning streak is continuing,” and sat down and just tried to breathe. Breathe, I said silently to myself. Just breathe.

I tried to call home and let my wife know what was going on but I must’ve been in a bad location. She could not hear me when the call connected. So I hung up and rebooted my phone. As I did so, I walked over towards the water fountain to refill my water bottle. One of the cops at the DFW Airport was on security and he had a pleasant presence about him, a sort of kindness that emanated.

As my phone came back on, I was standing near him and he spoke to me.

“How long have you got?”

“You mean as a layover? I’m not entirely sure. My flight is not even showing on the departure board yet,” I said.

“The USO is just up these stairs behind us and on the right,” he said.

“That’s okay,” I said. “I’ve seen too many USOs in my years in uniform.”

“Me, too.” he said. “I’ve done this for 32 years.”

“Wow, 32 years; that is impressive,” I said.

“May I tell you something else?” he asked me, and his eyes narrowed in seriousness.

“Of course,” I said.

“You have the presence of God over you. I can see it over and on you. You have God’s protection,” he said.

An admission: I’m a chaplain. A Christian chaplain. I have taught hundreds of lessons, preached hundreds of sermons, written on theology and church history and apologetics, married couples and buried men and women, and like few things more than Christian theology. But I was speechless when W. (I won’t give you his full name) told me that. I was not sure what to say. I am quite sure I appeared dumbstruck. But he continued.

“I watch these crowds go by me every day. And 80% are like deer in headlights. They are oblivious to the spirits possessing them. But you have the Spirit of God on you, sir, God’s protection. It is as the Word says; people have to have eyes that see and ears that hear.”

Again, I was speechless. It would not be appropriate to say “Thank you” for something over which I could take no credit. “CPT W.,” I said, “you’ve no idea how much you’ve encouraged me. I’m very glad to have met you.” I pulled my right backstrap of my backpack off my lapel uniform so CPT W. could see the cross.

“You’re a chaplain!” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” I said. We both smiled and shook hands again, like we were old college buddies from years ago or something even better.

We shook hands and he began telling me about his family. He showed me pictures of his son and wife. I listened. About fifteen minutes elapsed. We were becoming friends and it was as if we were somehow spiritual brothers.

I still have many miles and another state to go before I reach (hopefully) my destination. And miles to go before I sleep, as Robert Frost was wont to write. And I’ve no idea what is around the next corner. But I met two men who made big impressions on me today: Frederick, I cannot say that I hold a terribly favorable view of you, sir. You succeeded in stealing, killing, and destroying my ticketed on-time flights to Texas and Arkansas. But I also met perhaps the most encouraging cop and spiritual brother I’ve known in many, many years.

Takeaway: It is my belief that life is not random, that God exists, that he ordains whatsoever comes to pass. That means there are not rogue molecules, floating as if jetsam and flotsam. Frederick was known to God and the role he (Frederick) was to play. But CPT W. was and is also known to God and the role he (CPT W.) was to play. And, dear brother, you encouraged me more than you know. Thank you for simple kindness, for introducing me to your family via pictures, for being sensitive to the spiritual realities at play in this world, and for reminding me that grace abounds. May I be more mindful of it and more grateful for the angels that minister among us.

How I came to it: See below …

Here’s how I came to it. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it came to me.

Recently in our Sunday school class a friend gave me a book. I knew her to be a commited reader of quality authors and I therefore was grateful for her thoughtfulness and generosity.

After I had read the first three pages I knew the other books I was reading would have to wait until I read this one straight through; and that’s what I did–I read it straight through.

Connections to today: Begg is an evangelical pastor in the Reformed biblical tradition. He has many enviable gifts. But I think one of his noticeable gifts is connecting ideas/patterns. For example, he takes slices of life from contemporary life and connects them to the headlines in the days of biblical history.

Brave by Faith is a walk through the Old Testament book of Daniel and the exile of some famous Jewish exiles by the Babylonian ruler Nebuchadnezzar. But much more important than that is how the God of the Bible, the only true God, is bigger than political leaders, bigger than Nebuchadnezzars, bigger than contemporary temples of worship, bigger than Hollywood’s degeneracy, bigger than social media, bigger than the idol of politics, bigger than the panics of the day–the Wuhan virus, Tony Fauci’s latest pronouncements of doom, AOC’s latest tweets and selfies, Kamala Harris’ latest embarrassments, or of how most American politicians cannot wait to defend Ukraine’s borders but are determined to throw America’s wide open to cartels, fentanyl, and terror.

How does that connect to today? Simple: Pagans are in charge–humanly speaking. The West is post-Christian. The Bible Belt of America’s South is an artifact now. Most folks in Georgia are no more familiar with Scripture than someone from Vermont or from Colorado. Metaphors and stories that once were common knowledge are lost to most contemporary Americans. If one were to mention Solomonic wisdom and how to settle an argument by dividing the baby in order to discern who is lying, most folks would have no clue what you were talking about. The Bible still sells a lot of copies but seems to be seldom read, understood, and applied. All that to say, the West is decidedly post-Christian. This is one way, among many, Begg excels. He connects trends of today to what happened when similar trends occurred in history and how God reigns through it all.

Begg quotes Tim Keller, certainly no conservative thinker. Even Keller admits the West’s state of being post-Christian and overtly pagan and that pressure is being applied to any who will count the costs of standing on Scripture:

We are entering a new era in which there is not only no social benefit to being Christian, but an actual social cost. In many places, culture is becoming increasingly hostile toward faith, and beliefs in God, truth, sin, and the afterlife are disappearing in more and more people. Now, culture is producing people for whom Christianity is not only offensive, but incomprehensible (12).

Perhaps my favorite sentence:

I have several passages underlined in the copy of Begg’s book my friend from Sunday school gave me, but this sentence (okay, two sentences) is perhaps my favorite:

To paraphrase the twentieth-century writer G.K. Chesterton, when people cease to believe in the God of the Daniel’s fathers–the God who has revealed himself in Scripture–they do not believe in nothing; no, they believe in just about anything. And the only God whom the culture will not, cannot, put up with is with this God who says and shows that he is the one true God (39-40).

Who should read this?

1. The Christian who needs to be reminded that times have been dark in the past, that times may continue to be spiritually dark, but that God is bigger than the darkness. There are thousands that have not bowed the knee to Baal.
2. The unbeliever who senses that the moral wheels have been ripped off the train and that the cliffs are too close.
3. The person who is on the fence, who is open to considering facts and following the evidence and will adjust his/her life to follow the truth.

Takeaway: If you feel viscerally that spiritual warfare is a real thing, not just a theological bromide, you, too, will appreciate Begg’s book. If you need some encouragement to stand firm in the spiritual battles you’re in, Begg’s book will likely buoy you. If you know of one who might benefit from re-learning that God is bigger than the contemporary panics, I commend this book to you. Thank you, L., for the book. It’s now all marked up, underlined, and tabbed. Grateful for your thoughtfulness and for the gift of Begg’s reminder that God is still king and that his judgment is real.

Precious in the sight of the LORD

is the death of his saints. (Psalm 116:15)

Randy’s life was the best sermon I ever saw preached.

Papa, you have come into fullness of joy.

No more cancer.

No more pain.

I miss you beyond what my tongue can say.

But you left a legacy of godliness, of humility, of laughter, of the aroma of Christ, that remains for all who knew and loved you.

Well done, thou man of Christ.

I was in a conversation recently with a fellow military chaplain and he shared with me some disturbing news. Five of our fellow soldiers took their own lives recently. Individual soldiers, at different times, took their own lives. As a chaplain, but just as a man, a husband, a dad—as a human being—I was shaken.

As a soldier, I cannot comment on politics and government and bureaucracy, but as a minister and chaplain, I would offer what I hope most folks could agree on. Like everyone else, I have a worldview, a theology, a way of answering the big questions of life. And like everyone else, I have presuppositions.

And what I offer below is a list of some fundamentals I would long to see inclulcated into our lives as not just soldiers but as reasonable human beings:

I. Recognize that man is a spiritual creation. He is not a machine. Man is not mere matter in motion. He has a soul. He has a spirit. He has a mind and an imagination. This should be so obvious. We build libraries and art museums and we paint and write poems and plays and we watch films and ballets and listen to operas and music concerts. Why? Because we are spiritual beings. We recite hymns and raise our hands in worship and we kneel in prayer and we kiss those we love. We are spiritual beings.

II. Denying man’s spiritual nature costs lives. I was in a conference recently where the topic was spiritual readiness. Specialists in spiritual care, psychiatric care, behavioral health, chaplains of various stripes, and secular psychological approaches were all part of the discussion. A lot of talk was offered about why soldiers were being sent to behavioral health. When the behavioral health folks were asked if the soldiers were crazy or had some psychological issues, the formidable response was simple and direct. No, the soldiers were not crazy and they didn’t have psychological issues. What they were missing was connection. They often did not feel valued. They felt like spiritual orphans. They may’ve had Netflix, YouTube, and a smartphone, but they were living lives of isolation with virtual relationships rather than actual ones, and they felt like orphans.

III. Secularism fails to explain man’s nature, man’s deep need to connect to God and to other people. The secular worldview, by definition, denies transcendence. Man is seen as material, a cosmic accident, matter in motion. But every day and at every moment, we know that secularism contradicts our experiences as people. We assume our lives have meaning. We assume that our words that we write and speak have meaning. We take oaths when we are married, when we sign a contract to pay our mortgages on time, when we get a loan, when we promise to show up at work on time, etc. We tell our loved ones that we love them and we work sacrificially to provide for them. We conduct funerals and retirement ceremonies and birthday parties, etc. Why? Because we know in our bones that man’s deepest longings are incapable of being answered and/or satisfied via secularism. Man is designed to long for the transcendent and for meaningful connection to one another. Man’s well-being has several areas, of course: physical, emotional, social, and spiritual. But the failures of secularism are obvious to any honest observer.

Personal Connection: I have been a soldier for a long time and I love it. I love soldiers and being a pastor to soldiers and families. Military chaplaincy has been a wonderful blessing in my life. But if we as a culture continue down a path of secularism and paganism, it should not surprise anyone when morale falls, when generations cannot even define ethics, and cannot articulate a coherent worldview.

Contemporary Life Connection: If a generation is raised on YouTube, TikTok, and mental bubble gum, that generation’s soul is malnourished and atrophies. And a culture that atrophies is sick; it is twisted; it is missing essentials. One of the essentials is a coherent worldview that answers the deepest longing of man’s spirit. And I hope that I’m not alone in longing for a return to truth, to coherence, to a Word that comes from beyond secular bromides. As one 1st century writer phrased it, there is such truth, such coherence, such a Word.

The Biblical Worldview:

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. (John 1:9-13)

Turn and Be Healed: I am well aware of the reaction of most hearers when the gospel is presented to them. Like in John’s day, they often do not receive it. They reject it because they prefer to remain in their sin (John 1:11). But the biblical worldview calls the faithful to go and herald this message of God in Christ reconciling sinners nonetheless and all the more (2 Corninthians 5:20-21). We are told that we’ll encounter resistance and rejection.

And he said, “Go, and say to this people:

Keep on hearing, but do not understand;

keep on seeing, but do not perceive.’

Make the heart of this people dull,

and their ears heavy,

and blind their eyes,

and hear with their ears,

and understand with their hearts,

and turn and be healed.” (Isaiah 6:9-10 ESV)

Man is a spiritual being.

He is committing spiritual suicide by way of idolatry.

Secularism, in all its machinations and flashy ways, fails. It enslaves man to the cruelest of creatures.

But the gospel does not fail in its purpose. It is the power of God to redeem fallen and sinful creatures.

But we must turn to the One who made us and embrace his Savior, his Word, and do things his way.

If you intend to properly diagnose man’s alienation, his exile, his desperate unending pursuit of distraction instead of depth, you must understand man’s spiritual bondage to sin, his suppression of the truth of God, and of his (man’s) exile from Eden unless and until he looks to the gospel–the amazing grace and good news of what God does to rescue, redeem, and restore us fallen sinners.

That is the way to true and lasting spiritual readiness and resilience.

Question: Where should one turn in times of crisis? And perhaps the more important question is, Why do we turn where we do? What reasons do we have for turning the way we do?

Illustrations: I am surely not unique in having times in my life where I didn’t know how I was going to make it. I was unsure about my finances, about how I would live, about how I would provide for my family, about how I would afford health insurance, etc. I am not special, I get that. But I am hardwired to work, to provide. It is inseparable from my identity. I don’t do well if I am floundering. I thrive when I’m busy working on a project, focusing on some goal, have a target, etc. I blossom when allowed the freedom to maneuver towards a clear objective. I don’t understand laziness. I despise it. I was raised to respect hard work and to do hard work. Laziness is, in short, sinful.

But what happens when life throws us curve balls? What happens when our health goes south? What happens when our job is eliminated? What happens when the powers that be, so to speak, restructure and we find ourselves cut off?

Or perhaps worse still, where to do we turn when an emergency befalls our family or us as individuals? Where to turn? And why turn where we do?

Connection: Recently I was reading a book by Ken Ham entitled How Could a Loving God . . . ? In it he quotes J.I. Packer:

The ultimate reason from our standpoint why God fills our lives with troubles and perplexities of one sort and another, is to ensure that we shall learn to hold Him [God] fast.” The reason why the Bible spends so much of its time reiterating that God is a strong rock, a firm defense, a sure refuge, and a help for the weak, is because God is bringing home to us that we are weak, both mentally and morally. We dare not trust ourselves to find or to follow the right road. God wants us to feel that our way through life is rough and perplexing so that we may learn to lean on Him. Therefore, He takes steps to drive us out of self-confidence, to trust in himself (154-55).

The beauty of the binary is that clear thinking reveals the alternatives, the worldviews. Either we trust in the holy, good, purposes of the sovereign God or it’s all meaningless and random and there’s no reason we should expect order. You don’t matter, I don’t matter, your suffering doesn’t matter, my suffering doesn’ matter, and this is all one sick joke where we just thought we had significance. It’s like Macbeth says in Act V of the play bearing his name:

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing.

The Alternative to Macbeth’s Despair:

The alternative to Macbeth’s despair, the alternative to discounting your suffering and my suffering; the alternative to viewing the moments of panic and despair and emergencies in our lives as evidences of meaninglessness is to be quickened by them.

Why? So that we look to the Author of life, the Alpha and Omega, the One who raised his friend Lazarus, and the One who says of himself in Isaiah:

I am the LORD, and there is no other,

besides me there is no God;

I equip you, though you do not

know me,

that people may know, from the rising of the sun

and from the west, that there is none besides me;

I am the LORD, and there is no other.

I form light and create darkness,

I make well-being and create calamity,

I am the LORD, who does all these things. (Isaiah 45:5-7, ESV)

To state what should be obvious, God does not hide. He reveals himself here.

He says, in short, you and I are not accidents.

Our sufferings and joys and dreams and aches matter.

Why? Because we are clay in the hands of the sovereign Potter.

Takeaway: The alternatives remain. Either we are nothing and so we should expect nothing–because there is no God, no objective meaning, no overarching purpose.

Or we are what Scripture says–creatures formed by the sovereign hand of God the Potter, who uses and even ordains our sufferings. Why? So that we come to Him, the One who knows and does always what is right, even though that takes us through valleys of the shadow of death, through the throes of cancer, divorce, brokenness, unemployment, and uncertainty.

We can give up and say, “It’s all pointless,” or we can flee to God who bids us welcome.

This morning as I sat at the kitchen table looking over Scripture and jotting my notes on the index card for purposes of teaching, I watched several small bucks milling about outside the kitchen window. The rut is over, the bucks are skinny, and will shed their racks soon, but as the saying goes, “Boys will be boys,” and it was fun to watch several scrape and rub scent on shrubs and laurel as they meandered down the trails.

Here was one little fellow I caught as he passed through:

A cloudy mist-filled day in our area, but Brewster and I took in a bit of time for the woods and the creeks.

He discovered more deer skeletons.

We have found over the years that certain areas seem to be preferred for their last moments. Maybe it has something to do with thirst, as the areas are invariably close to running water.

And my friend Jim is seeing some of his beloved birds come near already and we’re still only in February. But I’m already seeing blooms on some of the flowering trees and grasses are appearing with new green blades, too.