Jonathan Dueker

“…and they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.” Acts 17:7

[Shaun Johnson @ShyBucketGetter]

LeBron James

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

In Georgia I entered a Chick-fil-A drive-thru line of forty cars.

I turned off my engine. I prepared to wait the way my ancestors waited out a siege.

Six minutes later I was holding chicken.

I do not know what happened to the other thirty-nine cars. The line moved like water that had somewhere to be.

A young woman walked between the cars taking orders on a small tablet, on foot, in the sun, smiling like the sun was her idea.

I said thank you.

She said, "My pleasure."

I did not think about it then. I should have.

At the window I thanked the young man for the food.

"My pleasure."

I thanked him for the sauce.

"My pleasure."

I thanked him for thanking me—

"My pleasure."

I want to be clear about what was happening.

This was a duel.

In Japan I trained in courtesy for forty years. Bowing angles. Seasonal greetings. The correct depth of apology for seventeen distinct situations.

I was a white belt in that drive-thru.

I escalated. I used my most formal English. I thanked him on behalf of my entire family line.

He said, "My pleasure," and gave me extra sauce.

Extra sauce. Unprovoked. A counterattack.

I returned the next day to reclaim my honor.

It was Sunday. The restaurant was closed.

All of them were closed. In the entire country. They close every Sunday, and they have closed every Sunday since the beginning, because the founder made a promise, and the promise did not expire when he did.

I stood in the empty parking lot and understood I had lost twice.

Once to a teenager with sauce.

Once to a man I will never meet, who kept his word so long it became a building.

In my country we say a samurai's word is his life.

I had never seen a restaurant say it back.

I returned Monday. I ordered. And this time I said it first, before she could.

"My pleasure."

She smiled and said, "It sure is."

America, I surrender.

It was my pleasure.

[G. K. Chesterton @GKCdaily]

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.

[Creeds & Confessions @CreedConfession]

500 Men Singing The Doxology A cappella – via Men Sing Grand Rapids

[Grant Bilse @WiscoGrant]

it’s the most believable thing ever, i’ve been watching this same game every January since 2019

[Dane Ortlund @daneortlund]

Luther, to a depressed friend, 1544:

"I beg you, join us truly great and hardboiled sinners so that you do not diminish Christ for us, who is not a Savior for imaginary or trivial sins but rather for real sins--not only small ones but great ones.

"You must get used to the fact that Christ is a real Savior and you are a real sinner. God does not play games or indulge in make-believe. It was no joke that he sent us his Son and gave him up for us.

"Therefore bid the depressions of the devil farewell."

[Wes Huff @WesleyLHuff]

At the very moment that Augustus is making decrees as the ruler of the known world, and Herod is seething in his palace, God enters stage right. Not on the clouds, asserting his power and dominance, not with all the strength and might he rightly has. But in humility. Doing so with a profound statement that he is turning all our preconceived notions completely upside down.

One of the most beautiful, yet often overlooked, components to this story is Mary’s reaction to the news of her Son. In church tradition we call her carol The Magnificat:

“My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has begun to rejoice in God my Savior, because he has looked upon the humble state of his servant. 

For from now on all generations will call me blessed, because he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name; from generation to generation he is merciful to those who fear him. 

He has demonstrated power with his arm; he has scattered those whose pride wells up from the sheer arrogance of their hearts. 

He has brought down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up those of lowly position; he has filled the hungry with good things, and has sent the rich away empty. 

He has helped his servant Israel, remembering his mercy, as he promised to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” (Luke 1:46-55)

Amidst all the interpretations of Christmas that we hear at this time of year from clergy, advertisers, politicians, and journalists, we might benefit from listening to the mother who sits at the centre of it all. According to Mary, Christmas is about God scattering the proud, bringing down unjust rulers, lifting up the humble. It’s about God turning things upside down— which ironically is the right way up to begin with.

And God accomplishes all of this not “from on high,” like the decree of Augustus, or the brutality of Herod; instead, God achieves his purposes from below in the lowliness of a manger. With shepherds, livestock, and foreign magi as the first witnesses. 
Christmas is about God turning things upside down—which ironically is the right way up to begin with. 

Every detail about the Christmas story (and the subsequent life of Jesus as well), states that God will reverse the mess and do so by first getting his own hands dirty. God conquers by humbling himself, he will heal by being wounded, he will save us by sacrificing himself. The manger is a throne, and works as a beacon of how God intends to turn everything upside down.

Grace triumphs over dominance, mercy over force, and Mary’s song will be the world’s song. Joy will pierce through the sorrow and sadness, fully and forever.

[☧ Today in Christian History @HistoricalRook]

#OTD October 17, 107:
Ignatius of Antioch was fed to the beasts in Rome.

“Nearness to the sword is nearness to God; to be among the wild beasts is to be in the arms of God; only let it be in the name of Jesus Christ. I endure all things that I may suffer together with him, since he who became perfect man strengthens me.”

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

@jcolosimo87 Nothing gets past you, Joe

[Chad Bird @birdchadlouis]

A little bit of vulnerability among Christians would go a long way toward giving a witness to the world about what the church is really here for.

Jesus didn’t found a gym where we can go and flex our biblical biceps in front of mirrors so everyone see how hard we’ve worked at being holy. He didn’t create a virtual spiritual reality where we can gather together with like-minded virtual reality users and talk about things of virtually little importance.

Christ founded a church, which is a little bit hospital, a little bit mental ward, and a little bit weekly reunion of sinners who’ve made a mess of their lives. It’s a place where self-proclaimed righteous people who have it all together will be bored because there’s nothing for them there. Church is for real sinners who really sin with other real sinners, for here they find the Friend of Sinners, Jesus the Christ.

[Smash Baals @smashbaals]

Happy Reformation day!

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

@jcsutherland3 @16colosimoj Do the right thing!

[The Gospel Coalition @TGC]

In 2004, Chinese athlete Liu Xiang won Olympic glory for his nation as the gold medalist in the 110-meter hurdles. After his victory, he was acknowledged as the first male Chinese-born track and field Olympic champion. From the standpoint of his nationality, that may be true. If you were to go to Weifang in Shandong, however, you’d find a monument to another son of China who won track and field gold 80 years earlier.

That monument marks the burial site of Eric Liddell. Liddell was the son of Scottish missionaries who competed in the 1924 Paris Olympics for the United Kingdom. But Liddell was born in Tianjin, China, and later died in a Japanese internment camp near Weifang during World War II. His picture is mounted there on a lamppost, and a large granite stone is inscribed with his achievements. In Duncan Hamilton’s excellent biography of Liddell, he calls it “a Communist homage to a Christian, a man China regards with pride as its first Olympic champion.”

𝗢𝗹𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗰 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗼𝗻

There are a host of reasons to remember Liddell. As this summer marks the 100-year anniversary of the 1924 Paris Olympics, we look back on his triumphant victory there in the 400 meters.

That story begins in his rivalry with fellow British sprinter Harold Abrahams, the two entering the Olympics as favorites in both the 100 meters and 200 meters. However, Liddell dropped out of a heat for the 100 meters because it was run on Sunday (a race Abrahams later won). Liddell’s decision to skip those races for his religious convictions was immortalized in the movie Chariots of Fire.

I grew up loving that movie, the glimpse of a man who stood firmly on his faith and still emerged a champion. Liddell’s character famously says, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. When I run, I feel his pleasure.” Many a young Christian has been inspired by the fact that, for Liddell, even athletics was a place of worship.

𝗠𝗶��𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗮

Perhaps an even greater reason to remember Liddell is his decision to lay aside his athletic career for a higher calling. After returning from Olympic triumph in Paris to overwhelming popular adulation, he shocked everyone by announcing his intention to return to China as a missionary.

In an age when sports was becoming ever more popular in Britain, many argued he could reach more people at home than abroad. Indeed, the Sunday after he returned from Paris to preach in a Scottish church, the pews were filled with people. Liddell preached on Psalm 119:18: “Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law” (KJV).

It was plausible that staying in Britain and continuing his athletic career might fit hand-in-glove with Liddell’s desire to preach the gospel. When asked why he’d give up such an opportunity, he’d simply reply, “Because I believe God made me for China.” The next summer, he traveled the Trans-Siberian railway overland from Europe through Russia and down to China. He would serve there for 20 years as a missionary.

𝗙𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘁

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤. . . . 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘖𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 ���𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘈𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘵, 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦—𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘴.

Liddell was able to minister for many months until finally he was rounded up with more than 2,000 others and taken to an internment camp in Weixian (the modern city of Weifang). Even there, his ministry flourished. Despite appalling conditions and death all around him, he poured himself into ministry with the young people of the camp. Langdon Gilkey writes,

The man who more than anyone brought about the solution of the teen-age problem was Eric. . . . It is rare indeed when a person has the good fortune to meet a saint, but he came as close to it as anyone I have ever known. Often in an evening of that last year I would pass the game room and peer in to see what the missionaries had cooking for the teenagers. As often as not Eric would be bent over a chessboard or a model boat, or directing some sort of square dance—absorbed, warm and interested, pouring all of himself into this effort to capture the minds and imaginations of those penned up youths.

This is a snapshot of a missionary faithfully at work. At this point, Liddell was already physically suffering from the brain tumor that would eventually take his life. But he was still engaged in ministry to others—leading Bible studies, counseling others, doing physical labor to meet practical needs. Thus he continued until February 21, 1945, when he died.

𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗮𝗰𝗲

The apostle Paul wrote about the end of his own life as the finishing of a race: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Tim. 4:7). In doing so, he exhorted Timothy—and all of us—to give everything we have until the finish line. The Christian life is a race not just to be started but to be run with perseverance all the way to the end. The way we finish speaks the most loudly of the object of our faith.

When you watch the Olympics this summer in Paris, think back not just on the Olympic glory Liddell won there 100 years earlier. Think about his love for China that led him to leave athletics behind for his calling there. Most of all, think about his love for Christ that carried him all the way to the end of his race.

("𝗢𝗹𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗰 𝗚𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗦𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲: 𝗘𝗿𝗶𝗰 𝗟𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗹’𝘀 𝗟𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝟭𝟬𝟬" by Mark Collins. Only have time for the best-of-the-best from TGC? This weekly email includes an editor’s pick for the one newly published resource you shouldn’t miss, as well as a list of the six most popular pieces of content from the week. Sign up to stay in the loop at https://t.co/TH71JEFY0Q!)

[The Chivalry Guild @ChivalryGuild]

LotR is a meditation on hope. The story turns on this virtue.

Tolkien shows that true hope is less about peppy optimism and more about humility. It requires an admission that you lack godlike vision and don't know how things will end. The hopeful man perseveres, however gloomy the skies overhead might be. He might feel bereft of good cheer; he might even believe, on some level, that all is probably lost, but he continues forward nevertheless—and he gives things a chance to turn.

The opposite of hope is despair, a sign of presumption. “Despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt,” Gandalf says. He could have added that despair is for those who think they see, those who think they possess godlike vision.

This is precisely the cause of Denethor's fall. He calls hope a thing for fools. He presumes to know for certain that the worst has already happened (“The Enemy has found it,” he says, meaning the ring). He thus thinks he knows how it will end and refuses to stay in the game. It's hard to blame him too much, considering all he has lost. But his arc is clearly a cautionary tale for us. Just a few pages after his declaration of despair, the cavalry literally arrives. But not even that will change his mind. He is too far gone.

There's much more to say. Pretty much all the characters can be measured according to their capacity for hope. More to come...

[The Culturist @the_culturist_]

Reminder that Tolkien was a devout Christian.

Into his books he wove a profound (but not heavy-handed) Christian message - one that inspired millions.

8 things to know about his remarkable life... 🧵

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

@BarstoolBigCat Instead of being a bears fan, you should just become a Niners fan and root for the bears to lose to the Packers every single year so that the Niners can keep beating the packers in the playoffs. Really go galaxy brain on it all.

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

@16colosimoj Didn’t they lose like nine starters to injury this year?

[The Gospel Coalition @TGC]

Our materialism, desire for control, and failure to be distinct from the world together affect our theology of childbearing.

https://t.co/szwp1DQMIv

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

Congrats on making the playoffs again @16colosimoj! Quite a culture of excellence Mr. Tomlin has made there in the Burgh. How many 9 win seasons in a row is this now? Outstanding!

[Jonathan Dueker @TheRealDueker]

@jcsutherland3 So, you hate democracy is what I’m hearing.