Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Galatians Commentary by Schreiner

I have written before about Tom Schreiner being one of my heroes. It is good to have heroes. It is also good when they are mild-mannered scholars.

I have not written about the fact that every good preaching pastor should have serious, rigorous, pastoral, commentaries on their shelf that they see as their “go-to” commentary.

It is really cool when my hero writes such a commentary. In fact, he has written three on deep, rich, and difficult Bible books (at this level, they are all difficult). Schreiner’s commentary on Romans was the first commentary I ever bought—a story I love to tell about God’s providence in my life.

Recently, a good friend gave me the Galatians commentary as a gift. It holds the pride of place among my Galatians commentaries.

Guy Waters over at Reformation21 just reviewed Schreiner’s work. Here is his conclusion:
As one who annually teaches at the seminary level a course in the exegesis of the Greek text of Galatians, I have publicly lamented before my students the absence of a readable, recent, post-NPP, exegetically-rigorous, Reformationally-theological commentary on the Greek text of Galatians. Many of the theologically solid commentaries are older or do not engage the Greek text. Many of the exegetically rigorous commentaries, even the recent ones, give me theological pause. Finally, I can tell my students that if they ever preach or teach Paul’s epistle to the Galatians, then Schreiner’s Galatians needs to have a place on their study shelf. This work has the double benefit not only of yielding much exegetical fruit from the Epistle to the Galatians, but also of modeling what an exegetical commentary in the service of the church can and should be. And in this, our commentary-writing age, I hope that others take note.
Please get this commentary as your “go-to” commentary on Galatians. If you buy it from this link you will also be supporting BCS.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Soli Deo Gloria

For those creative, and not-so creative types:
But as the mists of my dullness gradually cleared, the truth broke with a light that pierces to this day: she was praying for inspiration, for the choreography and for the execution of it. She was entreating the favor of God upon this endeavor and imploring His ability to procure it. She had the spiritual vision to see that this was not just a workshop recital for families and friends at a little performing arts school—it was a chance to honor the God of the universe. To love God with the heart, soul, mind and strength. To create something beautiful out of love for Him and to lift it up as an offering of praise.
That moment changed everything for me, in the way that small, seemingly trifling moments often do. All my loves—writing, music, dancing, homemaking, gardening—have since been charged with the influence of it. And not only by the ‘glory’ side of the equation; by the appeal, as well, if not more so.  I have in that memory of my beloved and respected teacher, face down before the God she adored, an image of the creative process that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. Creativity is a giving, an offering to others and a glory to the Creator-God. But it is also a receiving. And the courage to create and not valuate our offering by the market standards of the world is, I believe, a gift in itself, and one to be sought most earnestly by the likes of such frail co-creators as we humans prove ourselves to be.
Read the whole thing.

HT: Rabbit Room

Wednesday, March 09, 2011

Steak and Potatoes Redux

Back at the end of January, I attempted to barbecue steak and potatoes. You can read about the attendant failures here. The disappointments of that cold January night had been haunting me; I needed a rematch. So, this last weekend, I prepared for a do over.

I shopped for steaks at Von Hansons on 96, I purchased all the proper ingredients, and we were bold enough to invite friends.

Again, the potatoes were grilled to perfection. This time, however, they were tossed with the proper dressing with proper ingredients. Magnificent.

Finally, the steaks were watched like a hawk. I am not a steak lover, but Wendy liked them and the company seemed OK.

Overall, we will call it a success.

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Wendy's Pic of the Day

rose, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Stars Wars Toys Photographed: Awesome

As linked from Daring Fireball, look here. Please go look. They are fantastic.

What Do We Choose to Imagine?

What do we choose to imagine, when we choose? The answer is always revelatory, which is one of the reasons Chesterton was right to say that “the simple need for some kind of ideal world in which fictitious persons play an unhampered part is infinitely deeper and older than the rules of good art, and much more important.” The Harry Potter books remind us of this, and they can be, if we read them rightly, both a delight in themselves and a school for our own imaginings. They have many flaws, but I have not dwelt on them here because I forgive J. K. Rowling for every one. Her seven books are, and thank God for it, always on the side of life.

— Alan Jacobs, “The Youngest Brother’s Tale,” in Wayfaring, p. 80

Read Well

Alan Jacobs:
The other day a homeschooling parent, whose child is in the ninth grade, wrote to me to ask what books I thought are essential for a young person to have read before coming to college. My reply:
For what it's worth, I don't think what a young person reads is nearly as important as how he or she reads. Young people who learn to read with patience and care and long-term concentration, with pencil in hand to make notes (including questions and disagreements), will be better prepared for college than students who read all the "right" books but read them carelessly or passively.

Friday, March 04, 2011

Older Than the Rules of Good Art

Then came riding into the fray a young man — twenty-five at the time — named Gilbert Keith Chesterton, who, though a young journalist and an intellectual himself, repudiated the hand-wringing of his colleagues and planted his flag quite firmly in the camp of the penny dreadfuls: “There is no class of vulgar publications about which there is, to my mind, more utterly ridiculous exaggeration and misconception than the current boys’ literature of the lowest stratum.” Chesterton is perfectly happy to acknowledge that these books are not in the commendatory sense “literature,” because “the simple need for some kind of ideal world in which fictitious persons play an unhampered part is infinitely deeper and older than the rules of good art, and much more important. Every one of us in childhood has constructed such an invisible dramatis personae, but it never occurred to our nurses to correct the composition by careful comparison with Balzac.”

— Alan Jacobs, “The Youngest Brother’s Tale,” in Wayfaring, p. 71