C.S. Lewis’ Introduction to “On the Incarnation” by Saint Athanasius is a lovely and fatherly overview of Christian reading habits. He warns against reading only modern books in favor of a first-hand account from the lips of Augustine or Calvin himself, for instance. He notes that modern portrayals of ancient authors give the false impression that reading current books satisfies the nature of ancient literature. Thus, he warns against the dangers of an “exclusive contemporary diet” (10). He sets the good rule of reading “at least one old book for every three new ones (10).

Without delving into much detail, over the years I have inquired and even submitted draft articles to a few ministries for publication. My academic and pastoral resume should be at least sufficient to merit consideration. Mind you, I was not a newbie when it came to peer-reviewed and published works. I also had some acquaintances and even friendships with well-known authors and professors. But the response from at least two ministries was something equivalent to, “We don’t like your present associations…therefore no!”

This was especially true during the Federal Vision brouhaha, which few human beings in the Reformed world can spell or even understand, except to utter under their breath, “Schmorks works!” And that hesitation is even more pronounced today with my formal connections with the shires at Moscow and Birmingham.

However, I do confess that when those emails returned, I felt a sense of utter frustration. I even thought, “what if I tell them that I agree with only 79% of what this person teaches?” “What if I offered assurances of formal and theological distancing from such men?” I chose against it, even though it was tempting. After all, these were ministries I admired and I felt–and still do–a happy continuity between what I do and what they are doing. I was thrilled to join in partnership with them and do fruitful theological work together.

But as I reflect now, I wouldn’t trade my present partnerships with these folks for anything. I wouldn’t trade the friendships I have gained in my little ecosystem in these last 20 years for 100 published essays.

The result has been that what I have written has reached the right kinds of people through the right kinds of mediums. I was able to convey my heart and intellect and whatever I believe to be fruitful in the kingdom to precisely the people God wanted me to communicate to.

This all means that I find myself treasuring more and more the long commitments to old alliances. In some ways, those rejections allowed me to plant seeds in other places which now are bearing visible and glorious fruit.

Once you find your tribe of faithful companions, stay close.

This Platonic vision of salvation has had far too much influence on Christian thought, practice, and piety. The Christian hope is certainly heavenly, but it is also this-worldly. It’s about the resurrected body dwelling in a new heaven and earth for all eternity. Our hope is future-worldly, but it is not other-worldly. It is this world that is going to be redeemed. The body you now have will be the body you inhabit for all eternity (albeit, in glorified form). This is the Christian hope: the very body that has borne the curse of sin and suffered for the sake of the Savior will now bear the full weight of blessing and glory and splendor and majesty. It may not seem like this has much to do with the book of Ruth, but it does. The book of Ruth not only teaches salvation by grace, but it also teaches a comprehensive salvation.

–Under His Wings, A Commentary on Ruth

Piper’s words on the professionalization of the pastor are striking. In his revised edition of Brothers we are not Professionals, he details his pastoral regrets. He wrote these convicting words:

When I look back, my regret is not that I wasn’t more professional but that I wasn’t more prayerful, more passionate for souls, more consistent in personal witness, more emotionally engaged with my children, more tender with my wife, more spontaneously affirming of the good in others. These are my regrets.