Dr Paul Allen

  The flesh from which believers have been set free has the nasty habit of resurrecting itself. Believers have the authority to remind it and themselves that it has no right to be alive; rather, they are encouraged to reckon it as dead (Rom. 6:11), and if it refuses to listen, it must be forcibly laid to rest again and again and again.  Throughout the process, the Spirit promises to provide the courage, confidence and inner strength to succeed in this activity (8:13). At the same time, the Spirit reminds believers that however loudly the flesh claims to be their lord and master, and to be in control of their lives, it is trespassing on ground claimed by God and inhabited by the Spirit. The Spirit of life has energy and vitality to vanquish all that is associated with death (Rom. 8:2). He has enabled believers to be what the law could not achieve—that is, justified (8:4). He enables believers to do what they could not achieve—that is, be sanctified ( put to death the misdeeds o...

 At the end of Genesis, Joseph dies. His last request is a testament to his unwavering faith and his awareness of a storyline that is larger than one lifetime: “I am about to die, but God will visit you and bring you up out of this land to the land that he swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.” Then Joseph makes the sons of Israel swear, saying, “God will surely visit you, and you shall carry up my bones from here” (Gen. 50:24–25).  Like Joseph, we can consider our death and go to our graves in the certainty that God will do exactly as he has promised. The worker of God goes into the dust, and the work of God continues without faltering.1 Knowing this with perfect clarity, our Saviour laid down his life willingly. Will we do the same? When we know our days are short, will we be grateful for what we’ve been given or greedy for what we have not?  Yes, you may say, but Jesus knew he would be raised. He knew he could go into the grave and come back out again. Friend, so d...

Jesus prayed, “O My Father, if this cup cannot pass away from Me unless I drink it, Your will be done.”   Matthew 26:42 “Is there no other way?” It’s the kind of question we ask when life reaches its most difficult points: when a long, slow illness steals the strength and vitality of a loved one; when a deeply troubled marriage stands on the cliff of divorce; when a desperate search for work, food, and shelter results only in hunger and homelessness or crime and begging; when an addiction becomes a fast track to rock bottom and despair; when depression closes in and makes the whole world dark … again.  In these times, the question sneaks into our minds and sometimes escapes our lips: “Is there no other way?” Have you ever asked God that question? When the brokenness of this world and our lives reaches its most intense, most threatening moments, we are tempted to think we are the only ones who have asked that question or felt that sorrow.  But would it surprise you to...

We all have questions about death. What is death? Why do we die? Why do we all die? Why is death so scary? Why did Christ die? Why do Christians have to die? How can I face the death of someone I love? How can I prepare for death? How can I help others prepare for death? What happens after death? To answer these questions, we need to go to the Scripture and see what God has to say to us there. The Bible is God’s Word and is completely reliable and true. If the Bible tells us something about death, then we can stake our lives on it. We also have a lot of help. Our spiritual ancestors thought deeply and practically about death. Throughout the history of the church, pastors and teachers have sought to help God’s people face death in light of the riches of biblical truth. In the Protestant Reformation five centuries ago, the church recovered the gospel in its full biblical integrity. Martin Luther, John Calvin, the British Puritans, and their spiritual heirs have left us rich reflections ...

One woman with cancer told me years ago, “I’m not a believer anymore—that doesn’t work for me. I can’t believe in a personal God who would do something like this to me.” Cancer killed her God. What would happen to me? I felt like a surgeon who was suddenly on the operating table. Would I be able to take my own advice? Facing such a serious diagnosis, Keller was forced to reexamine not only his “professed beliefs” but his “actual understanding of God.” He writes, Had [my ideas about God] been shaped by my culture? Had I been slipping unconsciously into the supposition that God lived for me rather than I for him, that life  should  go well for me, that I knew better than God does how things should go? The answer was yes—to some degree. I found that to embrace God’s greatness, to say “Thy will be done,” was painful at first and then, perhaps counterintuitively, profoundly liberating. To assume that God is as small and finite as we are may  feel  freeing—but it offers no...