Dr Paul Allen

Christ’s Return My understanding of the New Testament is that Jesus promised he would return and that in this returning, he would do a final rescue for those who are trusting him and final judgment for those who are not believing in him. I don’t think there are two comings of Christ in the future, but only one. “I don’t think there are two comings of Christ in the future — only one.” Most of those who believe that Christ will come twice believe that the first return, the first of the two, is the coming of the Lord to snatch away the church out of the world, called the rapture. This would be a snatching away of the church back to heaven for seven years, usually, while the great tribulation happens on earth. Then, this is followed by a final — this is kind of the second stage — return of the Lord to establish his kingdom. Now, I grew up in a home and a church that believed that view, called the pre-tribulation-rapture view. It is called that because there is a coming of Christ pre,

A lot of Christian advice about porn addicts is unhelpful — meaning, it doesn’t contribute to real progress in repentance, healing, restoration, and recovery. Most of all, it fails to address the issues that underlie porn use. Often, Christian advice either has its head in the clouds of theology and biblical references, or is a list of superficial how-tos, and gets knocked beneath the sand of real life — of failure, and the struggle to hope. How is the gospel relevant to failing and trying again? And failing and trying again? And failing and trying again? We too often allow unattainable ideals to dictate what we allow ourselves to say — the issues we allow ourselves to address with the congregation, with the struggler, with the mirror. Are we allowed to talk about what Christ can do (and what we can do) right after pornographic indulgence? Or do we look to the clouds and hope for the best? “Why think about how God meets you in the midst of failure? You shouldn’t even be in an ‘

A Godward life is lived leaning toward God. We turn our face toward him and not away from him. We enjoy the consciousness of his presence moment by moment. We remember him and do not forget him. At every turn of the day, we put our trust in him. We count on him, not only to save us when we die, but to help us in the next hour. Really help us. We think about his superior worth in all our reckoning. In all our dealings and relations, we are reminded of things he said. His promises and warnings are the sound of the quietly whirring gears in our minds. The memory of his Son’s ways on the earth is the drama playing between the operations of our brains. And walking across the stage of our thought are the heroes we love to admire because they imitated him. We see God’s artwork in the world everywhere we turn. Types and shadows of divine things lurk with serious and happy lessons everywhere. We are conscious of his providence as we watch the events of the world. Every object, every eve

There is no ideal church. Churches are made up of and led by mere humans, finite and fallen. People are broken. You are broken. And this brokenness can lead to messiness and hurt. We all want to “arrive” at our ideal church, whether it’s in ministry or as members. The problem is that it doesn’t exist. There may be a honeymoon phase when you arrive at a church, but before long, the conflicts and complications will arise. Our great hope is not that someday we will arrive in this life at that perfect, ideal church. No, God has something much greater in mind. He wants to use those imperfect people, places, and positions to sanctify you toward the perfect image of his Son. When We Are Weak Paul knew how frustrating life and ministry can be. In 2 Corinthians 11, he speaks of all that he is suffering for the name of Jesus and the sake of the gospel, and after writing of all his beatings, imprisonments, shipwrecks, and constant dangers, he says that he has to endure the “daily pressure of

The flight attendant made announcements about some special programs when the plane landed. There were banners in the luggage hall. Billboards lined the road. Signs peeked out of the corners of the hotel lobby. Leaflets waited to be noticed on the desk in the room. Brochures were placed in my hand out on the street. Stickers stuck to the rubbish bins. Logos were everywhere. And what about the internet? Of course, all of this is white noise to those of us who live in media-saturated environments, but coming from a culture that is rather minimalist in marketing, I was overwhelmed. How do we discern which invitation to accept? Which to ignore? Whom do we allow to tell us what we need? Do we even make these choices for ourselves anymore? The Deadly Drama of Consumerism Invitations to participate in the drama of consumerism are extended to all of us. Consumerism, the idolatrous pursuit of pleasure through stuff, can be worshiped by both the lavish  and  the simple. Like all of

And they sang a new song, saying, “Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.” Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Revelation 5:9–12) Songs come and go in our culture — new releases to billboard lists to classic hits to oldies. Musicians rise and fade; genres come in and out of style; instruments, mediums, and technology are all evolving all the time. There are few, if any, songs or artists that really connect with people in every generation with the same power. There are great songs,

George Müller (1805–1898) provided for thousands of orphans by means of the “faith principle” — which meant he would look to God and never directly ask another person for money. Nor did he ever borrow money — for anything. He was renown for peaceful trust in God’s provision, even when a deadline loomed and food was short. On this faith principle, he raised £110,000 to build five orphan houses that accommodated 2,050 orphans. In his lifetime he cared for 10,024 orphans. By his example, he inspired others to embrace orphan care, including Charles Spurgeon, who said, “The God who answers by orphanages, let him be Lord!” It Was Not the Gift of Faith Nevertheless, Müller was adamant that he did  not  have the gift of faith. What did he mean, and why should be thankful? Think not, dear reader, that I have the gift of faith, that is, that gift of which we read in 1 Cor. xii. 9, and which is mentioned along with “the gifts of healing,” “the working of miracles,” “prophecy,” and

Chances are you are among the massive majority of Christians who rarely or never fast. It’s not because we haven’t read our Bibles or sat under faithful preaching or heard about the power of fasting, or even that we don’t genuinely want to do it. We just never actually get around to putting down the fork. Part of it may be that we live in a society in which food is so ubiquitous that we eat not only when we don’t need to, but sometimes even when we don’t want to. We eat to share a meal with others, to build or grow relationships (good reasons), or just as a distraction from responsibility. And of course, there are our own cravings and ache for comfort that keep us from the discomfort of fasting. Not So Fast Fasting is voluntarily going without food — or any other regularly enjoyed good gift from God — for the sake of some spiritual purpose. It is markedly counter-cultural in our consumerist society, like abstaining from sex until marriage. If we are to learn the lost art of fasti

Jesus said to love our enemies. Does that include ISIS? What does jesus mean?  That is what he said, as Matthew recounts his words from the Sermon on the Mount : “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.’” (Matthew5:43–44, emphasis added) And when Jesus said “love,” we should be clear that he didn’t mean hollow good will, or some bland benevolence, or a flakey niceness that hopes our enemies stop being so cruel. Jesus never talks about love that way. A category for love like that — the anything-goes, pat-on-the-head, can’t-we-all-just-get-along kind of love — is a phenomenon peculiar to our own day. When Jesus says to love our enemies, he means that we love them with a lay-your-life-down type of love — the type that comes from the heart and desires the other’s good, and sacrifices for it, when no one else but God is watching. And it’s the type of love that