doctrine

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Philip Yancey is, once again, counting on the mercy and grace of God

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Philip Yancey is, once again, counting on the mercy and grace of God

Asked to judge a woman "caught in the act of adultery," the Gospel of John says Jesus stooped, wrote something in the dust, then told her accusers: "Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her."

Then he wrote again. The silent religious leaders drifted away. What happened next sums up Christian teachings on sin, grace and forgiveness, according to Philip Yancey, long one of America's most popular evangelical writers.

Jesus asked the woman: "Didn't even one of them condemn you?" She said, "No, Lord," to which he replied, "Neither do I. Go and sin no more."

Fundamentalist preachers often portray God as a "cosmic policeman, someone who was just waiting to smash somebody who does something wrong," said Yancey, during a podcast with the Rev. Russell Moore, editor-at-large of Christianity Today.

That's wrong, said Yancey. Instead, church leaders should, "Start with Jesus and end with Jesus. … Jesus wasn't a pushover, by any means, but he was always full of compassion. … He never turned someone away who had an attitude of repentance."

Yancey has repeatedly delivered this message during a half century of addressing Christian denominations, colleges and myriad other gatherings. His books, such as "The Scandal of Forgiveness," have sold 20 million copies in 49 languages.

But the Moore podcast, on "The Problem of Pain and Suffering," was posted only four months before Yancey, 76, announced his retirement -- due to an eight-year sexual relationship with a married woman.

"My conduct defied everything that I believe about marriage. It was also totally inconsistent with my faith and my writings and caused deep pain for her husband and both of our families," wrote Yancey, to Christianity Today, where he was a columnist for decades.

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"Why, oh God, why?" The question former Sen. Ben Sasse could have asked

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"Why, oh God, why?" The question former Sen. Ben Sasse could have asked

It's the question believers have asked for centuries when wars threaten nations, storms ravage cities and diseases strike loved ones: "Why, oh God, why?"

Former U.S. Senator Ben Sasse of Nebraska, 53, elected not to ask that question in an X post just before Christmas that said: "I'll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die.

"Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it's a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too -- we all do. I'm blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, 'Sure, you're on the clock, but we're all on the clock.' Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all."

Sasse served as a Republican senator from 2015 until his resignation in 2023, when he became president of the University of Florida. He left that job in July 2024, after his wife, Melissa, was diagnosed with epilepsy, while also wrestling with memory issues.

Before reaching the Senate, Sasse taught at the University of Texas, served in the Department of Health and Human Services for President George W. Bush and was president of Midland University in Fremont, Nebraska. Sasse has a Yale University doctorate in history and has written bestsellers such as "The Vanishing American Adult."

The timing of the Sasse announcement was more than symbolic, said Daniel Darling, director of the Land Center for Cultural Engagement at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary. Sasse noted that he was writing at the end of the Advent season, with its message of Christmas hope for this life and the next.

"To many, this may come across as pie-in-the-sky, a comforting myth that helps you get away from the cold, hard reality of death," wrote Darling, in The Dispatch. "But Christians really believe there is another world coming, that this broken reality will give way to a world made right by the one who made it."

Thus, Sasse's letter is important in an age in which "tech entrepreneurs publicly muse about transhumanist utopias" and some politicos embrace "the advancing Orwellian horror of 'death with dignity.'"

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Why Christians in today's marketplace need Advent music playlists

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Why Christians in today's marketplace need Advent music playlists

"O Lord, How Shall I Meet You" is a perfect Lutheran hymn for the weeks before Christmas, but shoppers will never hear it between Muzak versions of "Jingle Bells" and "White Christmas" in their local malls.

The key is that "O Lord, How Shall I Meet You" is from the penitential season of Advent, said Pastor Will Weedon. That's the four weeks preceding Christmas in liturgical calendars for Catholics, Lutherans and others in Western Christianity.

The Christmas connection is clear, stressed Weedon, with lines such as: "O Lord, how shall I meet You / How welcome You aright? /Your people long to greet You / My hope, my heart's delight! / O kindle, Lord most holy / Your lamp within my breast / To do in spirit lowly / All that may please You best."

The hymn contains this confession: "I lay in fetters, groaning / You came to set me free / I stood, my shame bemoaning / You came to honor me."

"We need to hear this as we prepare for Christmas," said Weedon, former director of worship and chaplain for the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. "Advent hymns have about them a sense of dissatisfaction with our lives in this world. …

"We have a mess on our hands, some of it of our own making, and we're praying for Christ to come and save us," he said, reached by telephone. That message "doesn't work at Walmart, where Christmas starts at Halloween. Our culture doesn't understand the idea of fasting before feasting. We are urged to party and feast all the time."

Collections of Christmas music often include a few popular Advent hymns sung in Protestant services and even in Christmas parties, such as "Joy to the World," "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" and, especially, "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." Many Catholic Advent hymns focus on the role of Mary, the mother of Jesus, such as "Rorate Caeli (Drop down, ye Heavens."

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The convert era: What will Orthodox America look like in 2040 (Part II)

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The convert era: What will Orthodox America look like in 2040 (Part II)

The Orthodox baptism rite includes a three-stage exorcism that is extremely detailed about the spiritual warfare that surrounds new Christians.

Finally, there is this appeal to God: "Redeeming this Your creature from the yoke of the Enemy, receive him (her) into Your heavenly Kingdom. … Yoke unto his (her) life a shining Angel to deliver him (her) from every plot directed against him (her) by the Adversary, from encounter with evil, from the noon-day demon, and from evil dreams. Drive out from him (her) every evil and unclean spirit, hiding and lurking in his (her) heart."

The "Enemy" is Satan. Catechumens are asked, three times: "Do you renounce Satan, and all his works, and all his worship, and all his angels, and all his pomp?" They respond: "I do renounce him."

After several years of conversations while travelling nationwide, Father Andrew Stephen Damick is convinced these ancient prayers are painfully relevant to many converts surging into the small, but now growing, "Eastern Church" in America. It is no longer unusual to meet converts who have worshipped other gods and spirits.

"There's a sense of disenchantment, both in the sense of people feeling disillusioned and sort of bummed by the culture in general, but also disenchantment in the sense of a disconnection from the unseen spiritual world," said Damick, of the online Ancient Faith Ministries.

The converts want stability and guidance. Damick, via Zoom, stressed that many have "experienced the darkness of the unseen spiritual world and want to know what to do about that."

During a recent online forum -- "American Orthodoxy in 2040" -- Seraphim Rohlin, a data scientist who is also a deacon in the Orthodox Church in America, described a survey of converts in the Dallas area. As expected, 50% were former evangelicals, but 25% were former Catholics and 25% were truly "unchurched," including some neopagans. After a surge of young male converts, Orthodox leaders are now tracking a larger wave of young families.

As with many faith groups, some Orthodox parishes declined during the coronavirus pandemic. Other parishes stalled. Still, there have been pockets of Orthodox growth across the nation, even in areas with plateaued or declining population numbers. The biggest surge is in the Sun Belt and West, with numerous parishes doubling and tripling in size.

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Ancient churches of Orthodoxy are being flooded with American converts (Part I)

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Ancient churches of Orthodoxy are being flooded with American converts (Part I)

For Orthodox Christians in America, the 20th century was shaped by waves of believers fleeing wars, revolutions and persecution in lands such as Greece, Syria, Russia and Romania.

The Orthodox did everything they could to preserve their faith and cultural traditions. When bishops visited these small flocks, it was rare to see converts.

Then, in the late 1980s, flocks of evangelical Protestants swept into the Antiochian Orthodox church and then the Orthodox Church in America, which has Slavic roots. These converts began reaching out to others. Then came the seeker-friendly Internet. Then came COVID. Suddenly, streams of young families began exploring what was often called the mysterious, ancient "Eastern Church."

"Some observers liken this influx to a flood, and the comparison is accurate. I do not visit a parish without meeting catechumens there. In some parishes, they number more than 100," said Metropolitan Saba, leader of the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese of North America, in a recent Denver address.

"While many long-standing believers see in the converts a source of renewal and vitality -- and a spur to discover their own Orthodoxy personally and deeply, not merely as a social religious tradition -- many also feel somewhat threatened by the cultural changes occurring in their parish."

In a survey of his priests, Saba said, one wrote: "The century of the 'church of immigrants' has ended; the century of evangelization has begun. Orthodoxy's mission is no longer primarily geographical … but existential."

Orthodox Christianity remains a small flock in America, with 2-3 million believers in 2,000 parishes. The Pew Research Center has estimated that, globally, there are 260 million Orthodox Christians, the next largest communion after the Catholic Church with 1.4 billion.

The bottom line: The catechumenate class numbers are staggering.

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Concerning heaven, hell and the eternal prospects of President Donald Trump

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Concerning heaven, hell and the eternal prospects of President Donald Trump

The U.S. Secret Service spotted the hunter's stand high in a tree near Palm Beach International Airport.

It's possible that it could be used to shoot invasive wildlife. Then again, this potential sniper's nest had a clear sightline to the departure stairs for Air Force One, when parked in its usual slot when President Donald Trump returns to Mar-a-Lago.

Obviously, Trump knows he has enemies who want to help him spend eternity in real estate infinitely hotter than South Florida.

"I'm not supposed to be here tonight," he told the Republican National Convention, days after an assassin just missed his head. When the crowd shouted, "Yes you are!", Trump responded, "I thank you, but I'm not, and I'll tell you, I stand before you in this arena only by the grace of Almighty God."

The president believes God saved his life for a purpose. That's interesting, considering his history of remarks doubting whether he is worthy of heaven.

During Trump's recent journey to Israel, a Fox News reporter asked if the Gaza ceasefire effort might open heaven's gates.

"I'm being a little cute. I don't think there's anything going to get me in heaven," said Trump. "I think I'm not maybe heaven bound. ... I'm not sure I'm going to be able to make heaven, but I've made life a lot better for a lot of people."

That question was linked to his August remarks about ending the bloodshed in Ukraine.

"If I can save seven thousand people a week from getting killed, that's pretty good," Trump said. "I want to get to heaven if possible. I'm hearing I'm not doing well. I hear I'm at the bottom of the totem pole. If I can get to heaven, this will be one of the reasons."

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Graffiti tales at Canterbury, and a new leader for divided Anglican Communion

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Graffiti tales at Canterbury, and a new leader for divided Anglican Communion

In ordinary times, the arrival of a new Archbishop of Canterbury would be a headline that stood alone, especially if England's monarch had just approved the first woman to serve as the symbolic leader of the Anglican Communion.

But the recent decision to add decorative graffiti inside Canterbury Cathedral, founded in 597, added tension to debates surrounding the October 2 appointment of the Right Reverend and Right Honorable Dame Sarah Mullally as the 106th successor to St. Augustine.

The "Hear Us" exhibition added flashy decals to the columns, walls and floors of the iconic sanctuary, imitating the spray-paint art common in alleys, road underpasses and urban neighborhoods. The images offered bold challenges, such as: "God, what happens when we die?", "Are you there?", "Why did you create hate?" and "Do you ever regret your decisions?"

Cathedral Dean David Monteith explained: "There is a rawness which is magnified by the graffiti style which is disruptive." The exhibit, which ends in January, "allows us to receive the gifts of younger people who have much to say."

Among Anglicans, Monteith's leadership role has fueled debates because of his public decision to enter a same-sex civil partnership -- a stance rejected by traditional clergy in England and around the world. He also made headlines in 2024 with "Rave in the Nave" disco nights, with a temporary alcoholic bar located near where St. Thomas Becket was martyred in 1170.

In her first sermon after being named Archbishop of Canterbury, Mullally alluded to the messy divisions inside the worldwide Anglican Communion, with its 85-110 million believers.

"In an age that craves certainty and tribalism, Anglicanism offers something quieter but stronger: shared history, held in tension, shaped by prayer, and lit from within by the glory of Christ," she said.

"Across our nation today, we are wrestling with complex moral and political questions. The legal right of terminally ill people to end their own lives. Our response to people fleeing war and persecution. … The deep-rooted question of who we are as a nation, in a world that is so often on the brink."

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When pope's hold quick gaggles with reporters, strange things can happen

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When pope's hold quick gaggles with reporters, strange things can happen

As Pope Leo XIV left his summer residence at Castel Gandolfo, a circle of reporters pressed forward.

Early in his pontificate, Leo has been cautious with the press. But after some comments in Italian, he agreed to "one question" from the EWTN network. It focused on Chicago Cardinal Blase Cupich's decision to honor U.S. Senator Dick Durbin with a lifetime achievement award.

The problem: Durbin consistently backs abortion rights and remains barred from receiving Holy Communion in Springfield, Illinois, his home diocese. The senator has since declined the honor.

In English, Leo stressed looking at a politician's "overall work." The Chicago-born pope added: "Someone who says, 'I am against abortion,' but says, 'I am in favor of the death penalty' is not really pro-life. Someone who says that 'I am against abortion, but I am in agreement with the inhuman treatment of immigrants who are in the United States,' I don't know if that's pro-life. So, they're very complex issues."

What happened next was totally predictable.

"The Catholic right has been divided between those inclined to try to explain away the pope's language, and those insisting he was just flat wrong," wrote Crux editor John L. Allen, Jr. "The American Catholic left, meanwhile, has been gripped by a paroxysm of delight."

It's one thing that didn't happen -- with "all the polarization in social media, instant news and even fake news" -- was a clear statement by Pope Leo XIV about these complex doctrinal issues, said Amy Welborn, a popular Catholic blogger since 2001.

"Popes should not do press conferences or drive-by press gaggles – never, ever," she said, reached by telephone. In fact, popes should avoid all hasty statements on politics and public events. It would be safer for Leo to discuss his tennis game, she added.

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Parsing Pope Leo XIV: Journalists, Catholic insiders trying to read between the lines

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Parsing Pope Leo XIV: Journalists, Catholic insiders trying to read between the lines

Early in the Mass, the priest -- chanting in Latin -- leads the congregation into a prayer of repentance.

The faithful respond: "Confíteor Deo omnipotenti et vobis, fratres, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione, verbo, opere et omission," which in English is, "I confess to almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and in what I have failed to do."

Then everyone adds: "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa" -- "through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault."

This Mass is in Latin, but it's the basic Latin text for the Vatican II Novus Ordo (.pdf here), noted Pope Leo XIV, in lengthy interviews with Elise Ann Allen of Crux.

A big issue in current conflicts, he said, is that "people always say 'the Latin Mass.' Well, you can say Mass in Latin right now. If it's the Vatican II rite there's no problem. Obviously, between the Tridentine Mass and the Vatican II Mass … I'm not sure where that's going to go."

It doesn't help, the pope added, when Catholics witness "abuse" of the Novus Ordo. This offends those "looking for a deeper experience of prayer, of contact with the mystery of faith that they seemed to find in the celebration of the Tridentine Mass. Again, we've become polarized, so that instead of being able to say, well, if we celebrate the Vatican II liturgy in a proper way, do you really find that much difference between this experience and that experience?"

Pope Leo's call for celebrating the "Vatican II liturgy in a proper way" -- including Latin -- will "strike at least some American Catholics as either pointedly ironic or frustratingly hypothetical, given the number of bishops who have restricted 'traditional' celebrations of the ordinary form, even those 'proper' according to the rubrics," noted Ed Condon, editor of The Pillar, in a recent online essay.

If the goal is to heal "polarization around the liturgy," the pope needs to describe "proper" ways to celebrate the Novus Ordo, Condon added. But it "remains to be seen if those bishops who have clamped down on ordinary liturgical practices, or taken a relaxed view of liturgical abuses, will feel moved to revisit their positions in the light of the pope's words -- or if the pope will do anything to actively encourage them to do so."