In 212 pages, John MacArthur sets out to present The Jesus You Can’t Ignore in response to the cries of Emergent theologians and pastors for conversation instead of conflict. MacArthur sets out to do this by means of highlighting Jesus’ interactions with the Pharisees throughout the Gospel accounts, laying down an odd blend of a systematic/biblical theology of conflict for truth. While I agree, in the main, with MacArthur’s aim to inspire and equip people with the knowledge that the defense of the Gospel is mandated by Scripture, MacArthur has some assumptions and “facts” that make his argument problematic.

The first problem is his understanding of Jewish sects. While it is typical to see the Sadducees, Essenes, Pharisees, and “Fourth Philosophy” as hard-and-fast categories with statements of faith and confessions that they respectively hold to, it’s important to recognize that these sects are much broader than today’s denominations. The Pharisees could well be compared to modern-day Protestantism in many respects, having several core beliefs and practices, but a broad diversity on interpreting and applying them. This necessarily makes his insistence on the nature of Jesus’ relationships to these groups questionable.

The second problem is his identifying the Pharisees as Jesus’ strongest opposition, even going so far as to identify “the scribes” in the Gospels as synonymous with Pharisees (a claim for which there is no Biblical or historical basis). A careful reading of Jesus’ interactions with the Pharisees, particularly as Luke portrays them, will show that his conflict with them is much more family-like. Jesus, like a Pharisee, argues with Pharisees, not as enemies, but as brothers. His conflict with the Sadducees/chief priests and scribes is much more pronounced, since they deny the Scriptures, deny the Living God, and live for their own power and glory.

Finally, MacArthur’s ecclesiology and history ultimately hurt his argument. Insisting that the ecumenical creeds that preserved the Gospel are shabby and unable to unite Christian, and imposing a standard that only reformed believers can uphold, and all the while insisting that’s all that Scripture and history have, ultimately discredits his goal. The Jesus we aren’t able to ignore said that the promised Holy Spirit would lead the Church into all truth, to be our Teacher. No one church or tradition has it all, and the reformers themselves acknowledged that only the invisible body of Christ contains all truth, as Jesus promised.

If you want to learn about conflict and its place in Christian discipleship, read the Gospels and Acts. Study the epistles. In fact, try putting a notebook together on how Jesus and the apostles confronted problems. Write down whether they were confronting a doctrinal or practical issue. Note whether they took it head on or handled it with subtlety. See where their correction was effective. The Jesus we can’t ignore died for us while we were still sinners and now reigns over all creation, and will one day make things new. The Jesus You Can’t Ignore isn’t effective at pointing us to him as much as it is to pointing to a subset of Christians who feel threatened by the world’s philosophies, and rather than putting their confidence in the Revelation of God, have taken up swords to fight with flesh and blood.

Having just moved on from the teenage life a few years ago, I still have a keen interest in the things that Christians are putting out to “help” teenagers. A Guy’s Guide to Life: How to become a man in 224 pages or less is one of the latest. What Jason Boyett hoped to accomplish in this book is to give a summary challenge to teens and almost-teens (12-15 is my guess on the intended age) to take care of themselves mentally, physically, relationally, and spiritually. If nothing else, he manages to write honestly and present his opinion on those areas well.

But, I don’t think those opinions have much biblical grounding. Boyett, it seems, has sacrificed biblical wisdom for the sake of relevance and a “cool” Christianity that, really, amounts to nothing more than a moralistic, therapeutic deism (what Christian Smith highlights as the predominant religious notion among American teens). One would grant that the worries of young teens are often insignificant to adults and so, the topics of books like this may seem insignificant. I would argue they should be addressed, but they should be addressed in a mature way, grounded in biblical discernment, not in how cool (or geeky) a Christian should be.

I come from a prophecy-heavy background. In my early teen years, my Bible notes were a collection of notes, maps, charts, lists, and cross-references for prophecies in Daniel, Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Revelation attempting to understand the last days. Years later, after a great deal of studying Scripture in the original languages and contexts, and a lot of surrendering my pride and naivete, I can now look back on those days, thankful that God has brought me forward and shown me bigger plans than I had dreamed up for Him for the last days. While reading The Prophecy Answer Book by David Jeremiah, I can’t say I experienced the same relief. In fact, it sounded an awful lot like those notes and charts that I had made as a 13 year old.

Presented in a question-and-answer format, Dr. Jeremiah deals with theology surrounding current events (particularly Israel, oil, Islam), the Rapture, the Tribulation, the Antichrist, the Millennium and the New Heaven. Jeremiah’s perspective has echoes of historical dispensationalism and a heavy premillennialism, similar to what is presented by the  Left Behind novels of Tim Lahaye and Jerry Jenkins. On essentially every level of understanding Scripture, this book is unhelpful and, in many places, quite wrong. There is a way to study prophecy, and to understand what the Bible says about the last days, but this isn’t it.

On May 10, 2010 I became a graduate of Geneva College. I received my Bachelor of Arts Magna Cum Laude in Christian Ministries, with a minor in Sociology. I graduated as an Honors Scholar. I am a first generation college graduate. I’m graduating with very little educational debt to repay. And to top it off, I’m preparing to begin work on my Master of Arts in Higher Education from Geneva in August. It’s a lot “accomplished” in many respects.

But at the end of the day, even those good things don’t make me who I am. They aren’t proof or evidence of my faith in Christ. What’s more, they are some of the same things that could easily be used to bolster a faith in myself, an arrogance and pride that puts me on a course towards earth-shattering consequences for Christian academia. But that doesn’t factor in one thing: God’s grace.

I think God, in his grace, has taken that path from me. I think that, even though I would have opportunity to advance myself beyond many of my peers in areas of theology, biblical studies, biblical languages, and maybe even some work in sociology or other aspects of ancient history; even with all that, God has a different plan. And for what it’s worth, it’s utterly foolish. God’s plans for me are utterly, eternally, perfectly, and righteously foolish. And that’s grace. Because whatever happens, people will always know that it was never me: it was Jesus.

Some reading this, maybe some who know me, maybe others that don’t, will say I am out of my mind, that I’m wasting my God-given gifts, that my choices are irrational, that I’m not being careful or discerning, that I’ve not the wisdom to make a decision like this but that I should “wait and see” what God has. Those may very well be fair concerns. I certainly wouldn’t doubt the care and genuine love that those statements would come from. But what is more certain to my mind is God’s power and God’s wisdom.

In 1 Corinthians 1:18-2:5, the apostle Paul tells us a few things about wisdom and power: (1) the Gospel is foolish and weak according to worldly standards, (2) God’s “weakness” and “foolishness” is still greater than the best the world offers, (3) Jesus himself is the wisdom and power of God and he has come to us, and (4) because all those things are true, Paul’s choice was to act according to the wisdom and power of God, not the things that are strong according to the world’s standards. In other words, Paul put away the best his rabbinic and literary training could offer him (which is more than I have to offer, by far), and limited himself to the Gospel, to proclaiming the message and passion that the Holy Spirit had put in him. That same Holy Spirit is the one who accomplished everything in Paul’s ministry.

Now, Paul didn’t deny his gifts. He used them in his epistles all the time. I’m sure his sermons had a number of great things that his background allowed him to do. But it didn’t define him. He couldn’t let it define him. In Philippians 3, Paul lists several of these credentials. And when he’s done with that, he tosses them to the wind, saying that he would suffer the loss of them all to gain Christ. In Galatians 1 and 2, he argues that nothing he had or knew or did could qualify him for his work, but only Christ’s call was sufficient for that. Paul figured something out: if I am going to know Christ, gain Christ, be like Christ, and be faithful to Christ, I have to put away the path that would make me self-sufficient and embrace the humility that Christ demonstrated (Philippians 2).

That is why I am not pursuing an academic career. It’s a path of self-sufficiency and self-promotion. It will get in the way of my pursuit of Jesus. It will make me my own Messiah. I don’t want that. I don’t think God wants that. In fact, I know God wants me working in the West End of Pittsburgh. I think God has a work he wants to do there with the Gospel. I know that he is going to reconcile people of every age, ethnicity, economic status, and background to himself and to one another. I know he’s going to bring together the unlikeliest group of people to worship and honor him and bring the Gospel to Pittsburgh. I know I can’t do it, but I know far better that he most certainly can. So, please, pray with me for this. Ask God for that vision. If he is calling you to this work, check it out. But whatever you do, praise him, because he is the God who watches and protects his people and does everything he intends to do for them, with them, in them, and through them for his own glory.

We consistently move through life with hopes shattered and dreams realized. We live in the paradox of plans that come together miraculously and the best laid schematics that crumble into the dust. In that sort of reality, Christians often find it difficult to walk with faith in a God who says that he is both sovereign and good. While not getting into the whole realm of theodicy (exploring the way that God maintains justice and goodness in a broken world), Pete Wilson’s Plan B provides incredible biblical insight to how we should live and believe when we’re not sure if God’s going to show up in the way that we want him to, if at all.

The book has a fantastic blend of stories, pastoral insights, personal confessions, and a foundation that isn’t laid on anything except Jesus and his Word. Wilson directs our attention away from our situation to the truth of the Gospel: that God has come to us, that God heals us, that God remains with us, and that God has called us to be faithful to him and watch as he glorifies himself and increases our faith, working the worst broken situations to our good. My advice: read this book.