
Listen here.

Listen here.

We must bear our crosses; self is the greatest of them; we are not entirely rid of it until we can tolerate ourselves as simply and patiently as we do our neighbor.
If we die in part every day of our lives, we shall have but little to do on the last.
What we so much dread in the future will cause us no fear when it comes, if we do not suffer its terrors to be exaggerated by the restless anxieties of self-love.
Bear with yourself, and consent in all lowliness to be supported by your neighbor.
O how utterly will these little daily deaths destroy the power of the final dying!
François Fénelon (Source: Jonathan Bailey’s The Inward Odyssey Substack Newsletter)
It’s the daily dying that gets me. It can be so unpleasant! And it is much easier to think of our crosses as something external to us, like an illness, or physical suffering, or a person who annoys us or gives us trouble, than it is to think of our greatest cross as the one thing we have with us no matter what we suffer and no matter where we go: ourselves.
But François Fénelon is correct. If we die to ourselves each day, all that will be left is the small, final step from physical death to the fuller, more complete experience of eternal life that is had when a person in Christ passes from the earthly to the heavenly realm.
The little, daily deaths are worth dying. Learning to die them is part and parcel of the spiritual journey. The school in which we learn to die them is the school of Jesus Christ, who not only calls us to this kind of cross bearing, but who preceded us on the way.

So often we try to convey or communicate the character and work of God to others by stepping up the noise and the activity; and yet for God to communicate who and what God is, God needs our silence.
Rowan Williams, Being Human: Bodies, Minds, Persons, p. 98
We need preachers.
We need activists.
And we need contemplatives.
We need persuaders and prophets raising their voices and pricking our consciences and pointing the way.
And yet we need something else, too. God calls for our attention, and one way to give it is through silence.
Rowan Williams is right to observe that Christians frequently work very hard to proclaim the message and move the masses, to persuade and preach the gospel, to call people toward repentance and the good deeds that accompany it.
He is also right to remind us that if we are to truly encounter God, if we are to learn who and what God is, we need to stop, silence our mouths, still our souls, rest, and pay attention. We need to turn toward God so that we can be transformed by God.
I think one way to avoid God’s communication is to fill our lives with noise. This is true in both the secular and religious realms. I think a major source of our modern spiritual poverty is due to the lack of quiet spaces, places, and people. I don’t know if God “needs” our silence. I do think God invites us into silence, because we need God. Silence is the means to the encounter. The end is God.
In silence we discover our need of God. In silence we discover we have needs only God can address, murmuring underneath the surface, distorting our vision, disrupting our peace, dividing our communities, diminishing our souls–though treatable with divine aid. In silence we attend to God, and God attends to us. We encounter God as God is. And we encounter ourselves. God helps us see what we’d otherwise miss or deny. False ideas of God are exposed, and true knowledge of God is revealed.
In silence we communicate with God. More importantly, God communicates with us. There is time for preaching and for action, and there is much work to be done. God sends us out. But we must not neglect silence. We must not neglect the invitation to be still. God gathers us in. We enter God’s presence. We quiet our souls. We receive. We are restored. We are renewed.
When God sends us out again, we’re better messengers, servants, and ambassadors. We’re better equipped to glorify God, because in silence, we have beheld God’s glory.

The Baptist Standard has published an article I’ve written called “Spiritual Formation is Part of the Great Commission.“
Check it out.

Last year we watched:
There are four members of our family. We split the picks evenly. Everyone got three. We agreed to a couple of rules:
Pretty simple. We gained twelve shared experiences.
This year we’ve rolled over the commitment to twelve family nights, but added a choice: rather than a movie, a family member can opt for a game.
The goal is connection, common touchpoints, and good memories.


I recently shared about a connection between my family and Pastor George W. Truett. After researching the timeline more closely, I followed up with those at the Truett Memorial Library, asking if there was a record of the sermon preached on April 10, 1927, when my great-grandfather Loys Arnold was received for baptism.
The answer to that question was no, but the archivist did find a bulletin from April 17, 1927, showing that Loys Arnold had been received for and baptized the week prior. There is a mark showing where his name appears under those baptized, but his name appears in the previous section, too. Search for it. You’ll see it.
The other two pages above are also from the church bulletin. Though it is blurry in this image, you can see that the home address and phone number of Pastor George W. Truett are listed, as is the contact information for other members of the church staff, including the pastor’s assistant, secretary, and the directors of youth and children’s ministries. What a time to be in ministry. You’ll also see the church’s “Invitation,” which reads:
To all who mourn and need comfort
To all who are weary and need rest
To all who are friendless and wish friendship
To all who are homeless and wish sheltering love
To all who pray and to all who do not, but ought
To all who sin and need a Savior, and to whosoever will
This church opens wide the door and makes free a place,
And in the name of Jesus, the Lord, says
WELCOME
I like these words quite a lot, and I wonder how they struck Loys Arnold. Notice, these people do not claim to speak for themselves. They claim to speak for Jesus Christ.
I’m also impressed by the fact that the church’s weekly meetings are headlined, “The King’s Business.” Makes you think a little differently about what you are doing when you attend a Sunday school, go to worship, or join with a group or fellowship. The title puts you in a different frame of mind.
The church continues to be about the business of King Jesus. It is good, joyous, worthwhile, challenging, and everlasting work.

I work on a university campus. It is a beautiful place. I’m thankful for the opportunities to leave my office, walk the grounds, and be surrounded by beauty. There are green spaces and trees, fountains and memorials, the sound of bells chiming the hour, birds, squirrels, cultivated gardens. I also have memories. I completed my undergraduate degree here. My parents and other members of my extended family attended this school. I have a connection to the history. I enjoy my time on campus.
One of the things I notice when I walk the campus is the number of people, mainly students, who walk with their cell phone in hand. If they are not walking, they are standing. When a line forms at the entrance to a cafeteria, for example, most people are gazing at their smartphone. I see far more people with a smartphone in their hand than I see walking with others, talking, or just walking by themselves, hands free and eyes forward.
The smartphone keeps many people captive to digital distraction, whether it be through social media, streaming video, or text communication. I see headphones and earbuds, too, which allow people to consume music, podcasts, audio books, and the like while on the go.
This isn’t all bad. But I do wonder what it is doing to our capacity to think deeply and experience our world more fully, to be present to the creation, to God, others, and ourselves. I’m concerned. I’m concerned for what it might mean for the soul.
It is very difficult to stop any habit through white knuckling, bearing down and trying to quit by sheer force of will. Even if you wanted to stop looking at your phone, once you are habituated to it, it’s tough to break away.
It is easier to change if you understand habit loops, which move from cue to routine to reward, and make a change that brings you to a more desirable outcome. The cues will keep coming. When you notice the cue, you change the routine. The reward, or outcome, is then something better than what you would have received by following the old routine.
We reach for our smartphones because our brains are looking for something to do. We get bored. That feeling of boredom, that restlessness, is our cue. Notifications and feeds alleviate our boredom through a steady stream of stimulation. Scrolling and checking becomes our routine. When there is something new, we have a reward. Even when there is not something new, we have the reward of knowing we have not “missed” anything. It’s a shallow reward, a fleeting reward, but it is a reward nonetheless.
What could be more meaningful?
Is there a better reward on offer, one that could be received through a new routine, leading to a richer and fuller experience of life?
I work at a Christian university. I think the Christian faith offers wisdom that can help us avoid distraction and grow in our relationship with God. How is that wisdom received? From God, through the Christian spiritual disciplines.
The Christian spiritual disciplines offer several alternatives to digital distraction. Rather than stare at a smart phone, here are five Christian spiritual disciplines you can try to better connect with God, others, and what is taking place within your soul.
The Christian discipline of contemplation helps us to wake up to the presence of God in all things, and can be done by practicing God’s presence. We seek to truly see and gaze on life as it is experienced, leading us to be more sensitive to God’s revelation. We are also actively led to resist our compulsion to know and do everything, instead resting content as God’s beloved. This discipline can be entered through simple prayer. Instead of gazing down at a smartphone, leave it in your pocket. Place your hands together in a the traditional posture of prayer. Hold your eyes level and say, “God, help me be attentive to all things, and to you.”
The Christian discipline of retreat involves both short and extended periods of time for quiet companionship with and listening to God. A university campus is a place of study and activity. It is also a place with spaces to sit, listen, watch, and rest. After disengaging with a class and its content, find a moment to be still, with the phone away. Ask God to be with you in your thoughts. Notice your feelings. Jot down your insights. Receive grace. Rest in God.
The Christian discipline of unplugging is less known. It meets a modern challenge. If you have trouble looking at your phone, turn it off. Stow it in a backpack, rather than in your pocket. If you have a ten minute walk from class to your apartment, use this time to be fully present to God and those around you. Smile at those you see. Say hello to those you know. Notice your surroundings. It will feel uncomfortable, at first. When you power your phone back on, you can respond to any calls or text messages you may have missed. And maybe you’ll do so a little differently, because you have spent a few minutes being attentive to God.
The Christian discipline of mindfulness or attentiveness grounds us firmly in the present moment. When practicing this discipline we are fully alert to God. We pay attention to what we’re thinking, feeling, and experiencing, and consider these thoughts, emotions, and experiences with God. We breath more deeply. We turn over our worries and anxieties. We savor God’s gifts. You may have heard of this discipline, though not as a Christian practice. What’s the Christian difference? We do it with the Triune God as our focus and end.
The Christian discipline of silence is not only about refraining from speaking. It is a way of actively engaging with God by forsaking noise and distraction. Adele Calhoun writes, “Silence is a regenerative practice of attending to and listening to God in quiet, without interruption and noise. Silence provides freedom from speaking as well as from listening to words or music. (Reading is also listening to words.)” Silence is received. We enter silence. We actively open our ears, eyes, hearts, and minds to God. We wait. Our smartphones keep us from entering silence. Rather than scrolling, choose silence.
I could have named the discipline of walking without your phone or the discipline of walking without earbuds. The spiritual disciplines involve disengagement and engagement. It isn’t enough to stop looking at our smartphones. That’s a great beginning. But we’re called to shift our gaze elsewhere, paying attention to God and the ways God is present and active in and around us.
This list is just a beginning. What other Christian spiritual disciplines could be used to combat digital distraction? What could result?

Listen here.
This year books have helped me stay sane, if I was ever sane to begin with. In the latter half of the year I read more fiction than any other genre, needing a vehicle in the evenings and in quiet moments that enabled me to relax and escape, to visit unfamiliar and strange worlds, to deepen my understanding of human nature and the human psyche, to broaden my understanding of those around me and of myself, and to simply enter into and experience the joys and pleasures of reading.
My media log from 2010 and every year since is found here. I don’t know when I began writing reflection essays like this one, but past editions I produced for this website are here: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022.
Please note: all links that take you to Amazon are affiliate links. Clicks and purchases kickback to me. Support the blog and my reading habit. If a book in this post interests you and you plan to make a purchase, follow the hyperlink from this page. All the fun people do. “Be fun.”
After experimenting with this over many years, I’ve settled on a yearly goal of 60 books. That’s five books a month. Sound like a lot? I assure you, it is doable. Here is how I do it.
I read 65 books this year. The first book I finished was Quentin Tarantino’s Cinema Speculation. The last book I read was Larry McMurtry’s All My Friends are Going to Be Strangers. I revisited three old friends this year: Charles Portis’s True Grit, Dallas Willard’s Renovation of the Heart, and Frank Herbert’s Dune. I enjoyed rereading all three.
I watched 93 movies and viewed 6 complete television series. Books are one thing that kept me sane. Film helped, too. My favorite movies this year include The Super Mario Bros. Movie (2023), Ghostbusters (1984), Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023), The Sum of All Fears (2002), Jackie Brown (1997), Oppenheimer (2023), Barbie (2023), and Back to the Future (1985).
My friend Harry urged me to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender: The Complete Series (2005-2008). David and I took it in together during the summer, and it was a positive father/son experience. It is brilliant. I also enjoyed Netflix’s Arnold and Beckham documentaries. I recommend them both.
I’m glad to say I read a lot of good stuff this year. Topping my list are two works of fiction: Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities and Cixin Liu’s Three-Body Problem.
Bonfire of the Vanities was published in 1987, but it addresses political, social, racial, and economic dynamics that remain present in American life today. This is tragically so. I think this has less to do with the state of American progress and more to do with the enduring foibles of human nature. We do incredible things. We destroy ourselves. I found this book gripping, gut-wrenching, and true.
Three-Body Problem is a science fiction novel that will soon debut as a Netflix television series. I checked out a copy from the public library after hearing it raved about by one person in particular, though I heard others I respect offer similar praise. Without a liberal arts education, I wouldn’t have been able to understand portions of the book, particularly about physics. The result: I was more thankful for the education I received but didn’t always enjoy or demonstrably appreciate. To my teachers who endured me as a grumpy youth: You win.
What’s the book about? Earth encounters an alien civilization. This civilization lives on a planet that is in orbital relationship to three sun-like stars, and because of the inconstancy of this planet’s relationship to these three stars, a very different history, culture, and civilization from that of Earth emerges. When this civilization discovers Earth, a planet with predictable planetary rhythms resulting from a stable orbit around a single star, they begin a journey across the galaxy to conquer Earth. How does this civilization discover Earth? We bounce a signal off the sun, amplifying the signal and providing the power necessary for it to reach neighboring systems. Why? It was one person’s decision, a person who was deeply wounded by the Cultural Revolution in China. The novel moves across past, present, and future. It is imaginative. There is an element of mystery. The scientific writing is fascinating. But the core thought experiment is what hooked me: we assume alien races would be benevolent, or at least somewhat like our own. That isn’t guaranteed. Contact could bring chaos. In this novel, it does.
Other books I enjoyed and/or appreciated are Cormac McCarthy’s The Passenger and Stella Maris (these strange novels are part of a set), Ted Chiang’s Exhalation: Stories, George Marsden’s An Infinite Fountain of Light: Jonathan Edwards for the Twenty-First Century, James K. A. Smith’s How to Inhabit Time, Richard Russo’s Nobody’s Fool, Dan Jenkins’s You Gotta Play Hurt, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Be Useful: Seven Tools for Life, and Tish Harrison Warren’s Advent: The Season of Hope.
One Christian living book I enjoyed to a surprising degree: Don Everts’s The Spiritually Vibrant Home: The Power of Messy Prayers, Loud Tables, and Open Doors. If you are raising a family, if you are a grandparent, if you are a single person who is wondering how best to invite others to share in a common life, if you are a pastor wondering how to equip your people to practice hospitality in the everyday, this book provides several great ideas.
I know hate is a strong word. But I almost always hate something that I read. I did not enjoy David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. I did not enjoy Patrick deWitt’s French Exit: A Novel.
While I respect the approach and positions of both of the following authors, I did not particularly enjoy Michael J. Rhodes’s Just Discipleship: Biblical Justice in an Unjust World or Ian J. Vaillancourt’s Treasuring the Psalms: How to Read the Songs that Shape the Soul of the Church. These two books do not reach the “hate” level. But I have disagreements with Rhodes concerning his ideological framework and structural critiques of Vaillancourt’s finished product. In evaluating each book, I have tried to be charitable to both authors, see value in each project, but have no plans to revisit either work.
This will be the second straight year I continue pecking at Evelyn Underhill’s Mysticism. It is considered a classic work in the field of Christian spirituality (and particularly of mysticism), but, by golly, it is hard to read.
Next up for me: Collin Hansen’s Timothy Keller: His Spiritual and Intellectual Formation.
This has been a very challenging year for me personally, and I have not been able to write about it much. Our family began the year navigating an illness which I wrote about here and here. Thankfully, Molly is much better. She’s in a new job. Our kids have been a lot happier this year than they were last, and we’re very thankful for the growth they have evidenced personally and in character, academically, socially, spiritually, and athletically.
Beginning in May (I think that’s when the trouble started), I experienced an increased onset of symptoms that worsened over the succeeding months, eventually diagnosed as resulting from Epstein-Barr Virus. I hit the apex of my sufferings in September, spent the next few weeks visiting doctors and making adjustments in several demanding areas of my life, and began the work of discerning the best path toward healing. Rest, rest, and more rest were prescribed. A good diet, exercise as able, and adequate sleep were also recommended. The stuff we’re always told to do.
It was hard to rest. It was hard to let important things go. It was hard to do things that had been easy, or to quit doing things that I enjoyed. I had to quit playing basketball. I couldn’t coach. It was too hard on the system. It was hard to think, hard to talk, hard to teach. I think, talk, and teach for a living.
Books provided a respite. I couldn’t read challenging nonfiction works, at least not at the pace I am accustomed to. I moved over to fiction. Well told stories can carry a person, and they carried me. Well told stories provide characters we can identify with. A well told story can challenge the intellect, though often in more indirect ways. A well told story opens new worlds. Wonderful stories also form the soul. They stir the human spirit. The best stories can make us better. They can heal.
Movies and television also provided a respite. Taken together, I marvel at the products of human culture. Creating is a human act. I think this is a reflection of the divine nature. We make because God is a maker. Great civilizations produce great works of art, wondrous stories, delightful music, brilliant paintings, clever poetry. And jokes. Comedy. If art is being made, if culture is being produced, there will always be debates about the sacred and profane, the transcendent and the vulgar. Not all art that is produced is good, beautiful, and true. But some of it is.
I’m glad to live in a moment when I can access thousands of products of human culture at the click of a button. I can read great works of history both classical and contemporary. I can read philosophy and theology from across the ages. I can survey the history of film. I can listen to almost any piece of music, performed by the greatest musicians and produced with the finest technical skill. I can research great pieces of art, not only the finished products that hang on museum walls or that reside in private collections. I can learn about the process, the artist, the moment that produced each work. Some experiences of these great works of art can be, and are, superior to others. I would rather view a painting or hear a piece of music performed in person than I would encounter it through the internet. Nonetheless, riches are at our fingertips. The world offers us an abundance of horrors. We do well to pause and wonder at the world’s marvels, more numerous than we often consciously remember and realize.
As for another great treasure, the Bible continues to be my daily companion, and I continue to urge Christian people to make reading Scripture part of their life rhythm. There are many different ways of reading the Bible. You can read inquisitively and academically. It is worthwhile to study the Scriptures carefully and in depth, and I do. Most days, I read devotionally. I read as an act of love for God. I encourage others to do the same. You never know how God might meet you.
What are you reading, and what should I add to my list?